Mission: To Save Beast Warriors
by Syntia13
Summary: a.k.a. Beast Wars with shorter casualty list. 11: Missing, presumed dead. : A few days in life of our favorite bots, in which serious matters intertwine with matters not so serious, and sometimes downright silly. /chapter 1-7 edited/
1. Here comes Rust

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here.

**Dedication**: I dedicate this story as a whole and this chapter in particular to Rainynight, a.k.a. Storytellers, a.k.a. Winyourenemies, a.k.a... oh, to the Pit with this - You know who you are, and why I'm dedicating this to You. :-)

**Now, a note** **to all**... //counts the reviewers and favoriters and alerters// ...**to all eleven people who read this story** (and aren't my friends who have no other choice ;)

It was brought to my attention that some parts of the story are hard to understand for readers who don't know each episode by heart, so the 'Mission' is currently (slowly) going through some cosmetic touch-ups, to make the matters more clear. I'll also try to correct the grammar as I go - it's been almost two years since I started writing this, and I do hope my English has improved somewhat. The first chapter now has some additional scenes, if you're interested. I'll keep you updated on the update progress as I update new chapters.  
...I'm very sorry for that last sentence. I couldn't resist.

**A note to the new readers** (I'll optimistically assume there are some): don't let the title fool you - none of the story characters is on a mission to save anyone - it's just my personal goal as an author. The story itself is a simple AU version of the show - I try to tie together all the threads that should and could be tied together, change or explain the ones that didn't make much sense, (e.g., why was Axalon, _"an exploration ship, not a battle cruiser"_ so heavily armed? How the frell did Rhinox know that Optimus died? Why was Rampage created? What's with the huge inconsistencies in 'Double Jeopardy' episode? Why Waspinator? And so on), and delete the ones I didn't like (no proto-humans or killing off half of the crew!). You know, the usual staff. The things will go along with the show continuity for the most part of season one, drift away in season two, and divert completely at the beginning of season three. Also, there are two original characters in here. I've been told they are pretty well developed, likeable, and not too clichéd. Let's hope they stay that way.

**A/N**: I'm using here the time units taken directly from the writer's note in "the probe" script:  
_A "Nano-Klik" is a second. A "cycle" is a minute. A "Mega-cycle" is an hour. A "stellar cycle" is a year_. I added solar-cycle for a day, and I also use weeks and months. (If Optimus can, I can too!) Also, I assume you know what an optic, an audio, a comlink and subspace are.  
**Spoilers** for episodes: Beast Wars 1&2, Equal Measures, Chain of Command, Power surge.

-

-

Mission: To save Beast Warriors

Part one  
**Here comes Rust**  
_The Beast Wars begin as usual, but this time, Predacon cruiser carries the crew of seven... No, he's not crazy. Really. He's not._

_-_

_-_

There was a planet.  
There was space.  
And in the space - darkness and silence.  
And then there was light of a transwarp gate opening, and a roar of two space-ships fighting.

The battle radar on one of them beeped, signaling the field failure on the other vessel, and the Predacon watching it reported immediately.  
"Their shields are down! Destroy them!"  
His forceful advice/demand was, as many times previous, ignored. His commander just sat back with a lazy, predatory smile. "Now where's the fun in that?" he asked dismissively. He had the Maximals immobilized and helpless - he was not going to pass the opportunity to play cat and mouse with the fools. They had had the audacity to try and arrest him. Him! And they also possessed the idiotic arrogance to have identified themselves. Well, _'captain Optimus Primal of the private exploration vessel Axalon, acting on the Government behalf_,' was going to learn the hard way why civilian ships shouldn't antagonize Predacon battle cruisers. A sadistic satisfaction seeped into Megatron's tone as he added, "A little torment I think first, yess?"  
And as if on cue, the intercom crackled and an eager voice reported, **Sir, I've got all systems ready to launch!**  
"Then launch! Destroy their outer guns and inflict as much damage as possible!"  
**Aye, sir!**

A sleek, slender fighter fell off the bottom of the cruiser and sped towards Axalon.  
Behind its console Rust bent forward, mouth half open, blue optics wild with anticipation. He looked young, he acted young, and, as a matter of fact, he WAS young. Very young. He would have never had a chance like this back home.  
Maximals tried to shot him down, of course. He made a spectacular loop, avoiding their firepower, turned by an incredibly acute angle, and, flying just above the enemy's ship's surface, he pulled the trigger four times. For outer guns went boom. Rust pulled his machine up and flew right through explosions, screaming loudly out of pure joy. What a ride!

Then everything around him shook violently and it took him a while to realize what happened. Axalon was hit by a predacon volley. He cursed and went into a wild spin, barely avoiding the next one.  
"Stop shooting at me, you maniac!" he screamed into his comlink.  
"Get out of the battlefield, child!" a harsh voice screamed back.  
"Go scrap yourself, blue-face!"

Another volley was the only answer. Rust gritted his teeth, somersaulted over some more explosions and dived under the safe shielding of the maximal ship, firing all the way. He would make a loop around it, take out few more guns and with any luck--  
"Whatta-?"

Where he was expecting only empty space, something loomed into view. Lots of somethings. He desperately pulled up, but with the speed he was flying at, there was really nothing he could do to avoid ramming into several of them. Four oblong objects were sent flying toward the planet. The young bot managed to stabilize his machine enough to take a closer look at the remaining obstacles. He blinked, surprised. Stasis pods? What did these stupid Maximals think they were doing, littering his fighting space like that? Grrr! He flipped over left wing, determined to show them what he though of that... And three shots jammed him into yet anther pod. He cursed again, gripped at the rudders and took his machine the Pit outta there. He tried, anyway. The fighter didn't react as fast as it should, for some reason. Rust glanced at 'status' screen and hissed with frustration.  
"Great, now I'm locked with that stupid pod!"

So he was. But, as he very soon realized, it was NOT his biggest problem. All screens blinked suddenly and a mechanical voice announced:

_Entering atmosphere.  
__Approach angle: incorrect  
__Speed: incorrect  
__Danger: at high level_

Rust looked at the screens. He looked at the planet. And he smiled. If his shields held, he might have a chance to land safely. If the shields didn't hold... Then he would burn on his way down, down to the last atom.

_Just like a shooting star... What a wonderful way to go..._

He pushed both rudders down, to force even more inaccurate angle, and sped up. His comrades heard his joyful scream just before his comlink was shut off.

"I _told_ ya the kid was insane!", one of them commented.

"Quiet, you fool! Man the side guns!" Megatron snapped, not really registering what was said, for his focus was entirely on the visual of Axalon. With a stunned disbelief of a scientist watching a harmless fluffy bunny suddenly sprouting a set of barbed tentacles, Megatron was forced to acknowledge that the things that rose from the Maximal ship's roof were indeed a battery of D-class plasma cannons. That most certainly wasn't standard civilian equipment!  
But standard or not, it was there, and it fired with full power, and whoever sat behind the targeting controls was surprisingly competent. With an indignant roar, Megatron braced himself as his crippled cruiser entered the atmosphere side by side with its would-be victim.

* * *

The last of shakes died away, the rocks that were to fall fell, and the dust settled. A pitiful sight was revealed.  
The exploration ship Axalon, Optimus Primal's pride and joy, rested crushingly wedged between two mountain spires, looking like a bird with broken wings.

"Damage report?" a little strained voice, as if someone was trying not to stir a splitting headache, which actually was the case.

"Believe me, you don't wanna know." A young, tired voice of someone recovering from the worst fright of his life.

"Engines are busted, shields module is fried, we've lost over 50 of outer guns, and, thanks to that fighter, cargo hold #7 is one empty gaping hole. Not to mention minor damages and ruptures _everywhere_." This voice belonged to someone who would remain calm even when faced with the ultimate end of everything.  
"Prime. What did we have in hold#7?"  
"Spare parts, mostly"  
"An' that means, when ya break somethin', ya can recycle it straight away, 'cause we won't fix it," a heavily accented voice cut in, announcing that Optimus's least favorite crew-member was up and about again. As if his headache wasn't bad enough already. Fortunately, the owner of the ever-calm voice had it handled.  
"Exaggerating won't help us, so can it. Better go and check DNA scanners. If the readings I'm getting here are correct, we're going to need them."  
"Yeah, sure, give da dirty work to da small guy, he can'tgrumblegrumblegrumle..."

* * *

The Predacons' cruiser crash-landed in a much more hostile area than Axalon did, in the middle of lava fields, and took it just as well as could be expected. The harried SIC drove the crew to extinguish the fires, while Megatron bickered with the ship's AI. Unnoticed by the rest, a short, purple bike-model bot shuffled to the outer scanners console. Let the others worry about the immediate damage control and the navigational nitpicks - he was more concerned with his long-term survival, and he knew from experience that unknown planets could hold some very nasty surprises. This one, as it turned out, was no exception. There was an insanely high percentage of oxygen in the atmosphere, which meant a higher corrosion rate. A strong anticorrodant would take care of that. And then there were energon fields' readings, which were _way_ off the scale. No working around that one - they'd have to assume alternate forms, based on the local creatures. He didn't much like the notion - the local life seemed to be purely organic, and meshing with organics was relatively new technology. What's more, it had been developed by Maximals, and they had so stupid ideas where it came to assimilating new forms! He'd have to alter the coding of the procedure protocols to adjust them to working with the Predacon programming, and then rewrite the separate batches for each crew member to include the individual differences in their coding, it was all such a bother, would take him at least five cycles...

In fact, it took him six and a half. He was almost done when Megatron came to a brilliant conclusion that they needed new alt modes. And he probably thought he was so smart to think of it too. Snickering, the bot soon to be known as Tarantulas pushed the final button.  
"Scanners, teehee, activated!"

* * *

A long, long, long way away from the two downed ships, an easily recognizable, mechanical voice of internal diagnostic computer repeatedly pierced the air.

_Warning. Energon surge. Stasis lock imminent. Warning. Energon surge. Stasis lock imminent. Warning..._

Rust groaned and blinked, trying to make sense of the words. Stasis lock? Nonononono, no good going in stasis lock, he's alone here... With no one to get him into CR-tank, stasis only meant a prolonged death. But he had a little something with him to prevent it, right? Lucky him...

He grunted and lifted himself of the ground. His Emergency Kit was where it should be, tucked safely in his right thigh subspace pocket. He flicked it open, picked up a little tube, and shook it expertly. It clicked, reveling its true nature. A syringe. Well, kind of. Rust was about to put its 'needle' in his chest plate port, when his whole body shook violently.

_Warning. Energon surge. Stasis lock imminent.  
_"Override it, you stupid, slaggin'..."

With some effort he managed to put the 'needle' into the right place and winced when it reached his spark casing. Now all he had to do was push the piston... Which proved to be a problem. His body shook again.

_Energon Surge--_  
"Shut up!"  
He tried again, but his fingers refused to bend. Then came another shock, and with a quiet groan Rust fell face first into darkness.

* * *

The lava shone prettily, reflecting in glimmers in the Predacon cruiser's matt plating. For some time all was still, and then part of the wall shifted, and an emergency hatch opened. A brown raptor stepped out of it, a golden disk in hand. He was boiling inside and NOT because of the outside temperature.

"No, no, NO! It is all wrong! This cannot be Earth! Megatron, you FAILED! You failed to destroy the Maximals when you had the chance, you've already lost us a soldier, _and_ we're not even on the right planet! We stole the Golden Disk for nothing, you IDIOT!" with that he tossed said object with a force that would surely shatter it, had Megatron not caught it.  
"I beg your pardon. What did you call me?"  
"You heard. You are an idiot, and an incompetent leader. And I am taking over! Dinobot - TERRORIZE!"

Megatron just rolled his optics at the rest of warrior's tirade. Challenges for leadership were nothing new, and he rather expected it, since this particular bot was against the whole affair from the beginning. It had taken all his persuasive skills to convince Dinobot to take part in this plan (which was risky, he had to admit, but still better than just sabotaging maximal guarding posts and hoping that Tripredicus Council will finally move their lazy skid-plates and actually DO something...), and it wasn't surprising that he was, let's say, a little upset right now.

"You're so impulsive, Dinobot. Brave, but misguided," he said graciously, with a patronizing smile. He shouldn't have done that, he knew, but really, it was hard to take all this ranting seriously.  
Dinobot's optics narrowed. "Do you accept my challenge!?"

"There is more to being a leader than simple courage," he answered, turning his back to the warrior. With any other Pred, that would be an invitation for a dagger through the spark, but not this one. Backstabbing was, after all, 'dishonorable'. Well, there are some things everyone has to learn the hard way... Megatron gestured to his second-in-command.

Scorponok sighted inwardly. He _really_ hated it. But since he had to be the one doing others' dirty work, he at least could make sure we will end up with his hands as clean as possible. Hence he set his missile to maximum range and minimum damage. Dinobot wouldn't be injured...much...but he'll be removed from their leader's sight for a while.

Their leader faced Dinobot again and smiled. "There is cleverness and cunning as well. Isn't that right, Scorponok?" He sidestepped, and Scorponok fired. The shocked look on other bot's face made him feel even more disgusted with himself, but, well...what did he expect?

Megatron traced the airborne warrior with his eyes, then shrugged.  
"Loser," he murmured with a he'll-be-back-when-he-gets-hungry look on his face. Then he turned to the rest of his troops.

* * *

Rattrap the rat exited the lift, theatrically swaying under the weight of a piece of scrap he'd be normally tossing around with close to no effort. He also flailed and sighed and complained, all the better to show how displeased with the situation he was. And Optimus did nothing to lighten up his mood with his "Remember the great war" line. What he could remember of said war was that his life went straight to the Pit when it ended. So the Predacons could 'start it all over again', oh geez, how tragic, see if he cared.

"Besides," Optimus smiled, determined to see the bright sides and blissfully unaware of the small bot's thoughts, "you wanted exploration, and here we are, on an unknown planet. What more do you want?"  
There was a number of ways Rattrap could answer to this, from rude to aggressive and back. He went for sarcastic, since it seemed to be annoying the captain most. "Well, ah, call me picky but a workin' spacecraft might be nice."

Optimus shook his head with a sigh, and radioed Rhinox on a tight beam. **You like this guy, why?**  
Rhinox just flicked an ear. **He's a good bot. He'll settle down after a while,** he sent back consolingly.  
"He'd better," Optimus murmured under his breath. He had enough problems on his CPU as it was, like dealing with the Predacons, and securing their immediate survival, and...  
...and keeping tabs on Cheetor at all times.  
"Cheetor! Come back here!"

* * *

The diagnostic computer was doing its thing again.

_Energy level at 10 and falling  
__Energy level at 12 and falling__Energy level at 8, rising  
__10, 9, 13...  
_"Shut up..."  
_14, 11--  
_"Shut UP!"

Rust groaned as another shock went through him.  
"All power to dumpers..."  
_Acknowledged. Energy field dumpers engaged. Energy level at 15 and rising._

Rust sat up and looked around dazedly. Why was he still on-line? Then he look down and sneered. When he'd fallen, his own weight forced the syringe's contents into his circuits. Talk about lucking out...

_Energy level at 22 , stabilizing._

Not perfect, but it would do, Rust decided. Now, where was Raven?  
He looked around and moaned.  
"Oh, baby..."

He staggered towards a heap of scrap that has become of his ship. He touched her side gently. Her engines where busted, left wing was half times smaller than it should be, and missile magazine was... non-existent. The only seemingly undamaged part was the cockpit. Lucky again.  
"I'm so sorry, Raven... But I need your help now."

The cockpit door was jammed, so he just crawled in through a large hole in the front clear panel, which must have been the exact way he had left his ship in the first place. Note to self: always check the seatbelts' buckle before planet diving...

He tapped few keys and smiled with relief when the screens blinked in response. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Ok, what now? Readjust shields to dump energon fields - checked. Hook himself to energon feeder - checked. Think about something he just knows is important, but cannot quite remember at the moment - er, later. Go off-line for a short recharge period - checked...

&&&&

He woke with a start, the important thing burning in his mind. He hastily powered up that special internal scanner he'd got from that chuckling scientist, what-was-his-name, and checked the readings. They showed static. "Wait till I get my hands on this wacko... It was supposed to be a LONG-range scanner!"

How was he supposed to find Megatron now? Provided he was on the same planet, that is... Well, he'd just have to search the old-fashion way. But for now... Rust relaxed and checked the screens. He winced at the damage reports, winced even more at the energy level stat, snorted in disbelieve at the outside power level readings, did a double take and grunted. So that's where that energon surges came from. Perfect. He was stuck in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by energon field that would short-circuit him after few cycles' exposure. It wouldn't have been a problem, if Raven weren't predacon-build. Predacons didn't much care what would happen to some lonely pilot, who was stupid enough to get stranded on an over-energonized planet. At least Maximals put DNA-scanners and transformation modules into every unit they built... Rust sat upright suddenly and smiled.  
"Raven, find me any maximal junk near here."  
_Unknown voice command.  
_"Grrr, stupid cheap software... I KNEW I should have stolen something better for you. OK, Raven, find me any mechanical objects of maximal manufacture."  
_Unknown voice command._

With a soft hiss the young bot gave up, and bent over the keyboard. It took some time, but he finally forced the stubborn computer to enlist all scanning commands, and then he picked the one that looked most promising.

"Scan surroundings for technological units," he muttered in disgust. "What a heap of garbage..."

The computer beeped. Rust checked coordinates and smiled. Not that far. Now, a sensible thing to do would be to convert all power to field dumpers and walk slowly, saving energy. That's what every reasonable bot would do. Rust stifled laughter. Not what he would do, then. He sped off in his motorcycle mode.

* * *

Megatron was in a foul mood. His first battle on this planet - if a squabble over a wayward cheetah could be called a battle - didn't go as well as he wished for. Not even close. He was used to commanding soldiers who knew how to act on a battlefield. For example, to seek cover and actually _hit_ the targets there were aiming at.

And now he had to deal with a scientist who had probably lived through the war hidden in a lab somewhere, another so-called scientist, who as a matter of fact _had_ experience in fighting, but had lost his battle edge long ago, an over-confident street fighter, and Waspinator. Oh yes. Waspinator. Megatron closed his eyes for a moment and growled. Whatever had possessed him to bring that idiot along? Oh, never mind.

It was almost a miracle, really, that they had managed to pull off the theft and get away with it. Having secret ace up his power-gauntlet helped, of course. The ace he no longer had. A shame, really. Rust was such an obedient and promising bot...unlike some others he knew...grrrr.

He shot a disgusted glance at his troops. The sooner Dinobot came back the better.  
Speaking of the devil...  
The Maximals they where stalking stopped suddenly, and the purple T-rex smiled with satisfaction when he spotted a raptor's silhouette ahead of them. Blocking their only passage to Axalon.  
Faultless. With a warrior on a narrow bridge and rest of the Predacons at their back, Maximals didn't stand a chance.  
Megatron scanned the scenery, chose the best attack spot and started toward it, his 'soldiers' right behind him. He had to hand it to Dinobot, he knew how to--

"...Megatron will fall as soon as I have your Maximals at my command..."

The gust of wind brought the words with it, and Megatron stopped dead in his tracks. He must have misheard it, it was impossible--

"Dinobot, MAXIMIZE!"

--or wasn't. Megatron's reptilian eyes where almost round with shock. That...that...that backstabbing Pred! The warrior owed everything he was to Megatron, they've been working together in PLF **(Predacon Liberation Front)** for stellar-cycles, and now he was turning against him because-- because of what? One stupid missile?

He could swallow that, he could swallow treachery and questioning his command (within reason, naturally), but _siding with the Maxis_? Actually _becoming_ one of them?  
His shock turned to fury. He dimly heard Tarantulas speaking "Not the winner is what interest me..."  
"Nor me, noo," he snarled. "How much more preferable would be if they both lost, yess. Predacons, TERRORIZE!"

* * *

The stasis pod lay at the end of a long, still smoking clearing amid the pine trees, and Rust knew the protoform inside was dead even before he got close enough to see it. And when he was close enough, he could easily see why. All pods had three independent life support systems. One above protoform's head - where Raven's nose smashed it. One at its feet - where one of Axalon's shooters scored. And one at the bottom - which apparently was sticking outside Raven's shielding on the way down, and was now one melted mass of metal. The poor bot within was dead before his pod ever touched the ground. But DNA scanners _had_ been protected by the shields and looked undamaged. How extremely...lucky...

_Five shots down, five more we've got  
__One shall live, and one - shall - NOT!_

Rust blinked, shaking off singsong voices and the attached memory. "Looks like I've won the Pred's Roulette once more" he whispered. "Pity none of us knew we were playing..." He lifted the clear lid and caressed other bot's face gently. "I'm sorry," he breathed, and he meant it. But it didn't stop him from removing the limp body from the pod. He needed new alt-mode, and it wasn't like it mattered for that bot any more.

He activated DNA scanner and was amazed at the multitude of life forms it detected.  
"Cool. Now, something big and nasty..." he found filtering commands and chose 'predators', 'list by size'. The list was long, but he found the perfect match right at the top of it. Rust's smile threatened to slice his head in half when he saw it.  
He was not, by any stretch of imagination, a xenobiology expert, but some of the obscure knowledge had seeped into the common lore, even if only in the form of inaccurate symbols and proverbs. Rust might not know precisely what wolves looked like, but he was sure he'd like it.

"A night singer. Absolutely perfect," he said and hit the 'confirm' button. He was about to settle in the pod, when a thought hit him. The programming chip and personal datatrax. He didn't want to have anything to do with those, but to eliminate them, he'd have to work on the pod's circuitry. And he wasn't good with circuitry. In fact, he was hopeless with it. For some strange reason every single bit of machinery with any kind of energy flow in it tended to short-circuit, or even explode, when he tried to mess with it. He had learned to live with it, and even use it to his advantage sometimes, but when he wanted to modify or fix something, he had to rely on others. And now he was alone.

Choices, choices.  
To risk frying whole stasis pod, his only chance to survive...  
Or to risk getting programming upgrade he didn't wish to get.  
Mmmm, the thrill of indecision...  
Let's see, which option would be considered 'most stupid, reckless and irresponsible' by Mr. Know-It-All-Soundblast? Hehehe.

He opened the EK box again and took out some tools. There were 'medical instruments', which meant there were exactly like 'mechanical tools', only better.

Oh, he almost forgot... he pulled a little catch that opened the hidden compartment in the box. It was divided in sixty little cubbyholes. When he'd begun his Journey To The Pit With Sightseeing On The Way, each was occupied by one tube-like syringe. But now - bot's hand froze in bewildered realization - half of them were empty. Had he really used so much already? A little ping of anxiety squeezed his spark, but then he shook it off. So what? He most probably won't have time to use them all anyways. He'll just have to be less wasteful. A sudden thought made him chuckle - medics at ESDS-Hospital would probably freak out if they ever discovered he was sometimes using their precious medicine like some kind of emergency battery.  
Still laughing softly he took out a tube, closed the compartment and put the syringe in its place on the very top of emergency kit. It was a must-be to have one close at hand, in case his spark misbehaved.

And now, back to the task. He selected the tool, smash-opened the panel and managed to successfully remove the Maximal programming chip when Murphy struck out. It was very simple chain of events.

- Strong energon fields.  
- Lack of energy in field dampers.  
- Energon surge shock.  
- Sharp tool tip hitting fragile wiring casing.  
- And cutting some wires that weren't supposed to be cut.  
- Rust's hand slipping from the insulated handle.  
- And touching unprotected metal.  
- Loud sizzle of overloading circuits.  
- Small electrical fire.

"You rusted son of a toaster!"  
Rust shook his zapped hand.  
"You fried son of a toaster," he corrected resignedly. "Just please tell me DNA scanners are still on-line..."  
Amazing, but they were. Apparently it was one of older pod versions, with separate modules for each task. Good for him.

OoooKaaay, show time. He hopped into the pod and closed the lid.  
"Activate transformation program"  
Machines around him hummed to life, a thin line of scan ran along his body, and then...nothing, absolutely nothing he'd ever experienced had prepared him for what happened next.

He'd always been life-hungry. He craved for sensations. Intense, faint, pleasant, painful - he wanted them all. He was looking forward to this new experience, and now he discovered that what the pod did to him meant total _lack_ of sensations.

He had been liquefied.  
There where no hands to touch.  
There where no optics to see.  
There where no audios to hear.  
There was only his conscious spark, suspended in nothingness.

Oh, nasty. Ughh, nastier. Oh yuck, awful! Why people ever DO that?! And why was he still on-line? Wasn't the pod supposed to knock him off-line?  
At which point, it did knock him off-line.

* * *

The Predacons were shooting, the Maximals were running, and the narrow bridge was crumbling. Rattrap screamed when it disappeared from under his feet, and then yelped when a hand closed around his wrist and he slammed hard against the cliff wall. His optics dimmed, and when his vision cleared, he was standing safely on the ground. He took a nano to restart his air intakes, and to make sure that his chest plate hadn't been, in fact, knocked right trough his back plate. It certainly felt like it...

"Your welcome."  
Rattrap glanced at Optimus angrily. He was not in the mood to admit that he owed him. They could have been still exploring, had Primal not answered some stupid emergency alert...  
"You're da leader, it's yer, uh, job."  
Optimus glared at him.  
_Rhinox, I really hope you were right about this bot._

&&&&

Another leader was, to put it lightly, disappointed with his crew as well. He gave an order to destroy the slaggin' bridge. Not the cliff walls, not the sky, the bridge. Since his laser wasn't designed to deal with rocks, he had to rely on Tarantulas and Scorponok, and only the former did his job. Scorponok missed by a _parsec_. With a furious roar Megatron bashed at Terrorsaur (few of his shots singed Megatron's shoulder, and he was almost positive it was no accident) and turned to strangle the main culprit, who raised his claws in futile defense.

"Incompetent! You let them--"  
A blinding flash distracted him enough to drop Scorponok, and when few nano-kliks later a bang of enormous explosion reached them and he spotted its source, he forgot about his anger completely. A bluish crystal the size of a mountain gleamed in the light of the setting sun.  
"Energon!"  
Scorponok's missiles weren't a total waste after all...

* * *

The lid was jammed. That meant a big wolf was trapped in a very small space. And he didn't like it in the least. Voice commands, persuasion and curses didn't affect the stubborn component at all, and it was time for a brute force.

"Open" he demanded, slamming his back against it. It didn't cooperate, so he tried again, and again, and again.  
"Open. Open. OpenopenopenOPEN!"

_Crash!_ gave up the latch.

"See, it wasn't so hard" Rust hopped out of the pod and breathed deeply. Ah, freedom! And then he froze and his green eyes very slowly went big and round.

The smells! Everywhere around him! He could almost taste them, he could trace them, he could easily identify their sources, there where SO MANY of them! Primus, and he lived all his live depending on his optics and audios only! What else had he missed?

He stood there motionlessly for quite some time, marveling at what his nose was telling him. One scent suddenly cut trough the rest. It was warm, and soft, and had undertones in it that told Rust that it was coming from some kind of energy. No, he corrected himself as his body lunged after it. Not energy. Food.

The joy of chase. The twigs slashing at his muzzle. The soft moss under his paws. Something small and fluffy running away, its smell no longer soft, but tinged with sharp note of...fear.  
One final leap.  
_Squeeeeeak!  
Crunch_...

Oh man, how come no one ever told him eating was such a pleasure?

* * *

When battling Predacons, one should always expect a spectacular explosion.  
When battling alongside Predacons, one should always expect there would be some companionate spark, eager to put one out of one's misery.

Unfortunately, Scorponok was fussing over the shorting, sparking, unconscious and so temptingly vulnerable form of Megatron before Tarantulas reached it, and the spider had to back off, grumbling his displeasure under his breath. All right, so maybe the klutzy second-in-command wasn't much of a threat, but Tarantulas preferred to keep a low profile, at least for the moment. And since he didn't feel like helping dragging over two tons of his so called leader back to base, he had to part with a small floater he carried around for emergencies. The small device was barely able to lift Megaton off the ground, and judging from the crackles it was a safe bet it would be damaged beyond recovery by the time they got back, and then he'd have to make a new one. This day definitely wasn't a good one.

* * *

Rust trotted back to stasis pod licking his lips. He felt wonderfully full. Mmmm, he really loved this mode. He wasn't even upset that he lost the motorcycle one. It was definitely worth it.

He stopped by the lifeless metal form of the rightful pod occupant, and sniffed at him. So many scents in one dead bot... He sighed and transformed.  
"Thanks for the life, buddy," he murmured, picking up the corpse. He put it back in the pod and slammed the broken latch shut. There was no chance of a proper recycle, and this was as good coffin as any. "Bye."

Raven, not surprisingly, was exactly where he'd left her. He inspected damages carefully and shook his head in grief. This fighter would never fly again. Sigh...

He crawled inside and rummaged around until he found his backpack. Well, actually it was just a big rectangular container with automatic magno-clamps, but he carried it on his back and used it for packing things, therefore he called it backpack. It was quite handy for a bot on the run. Subspace pockets could only hold so much, after all.  
He filled it with every piece of junk he thought would be useful, threw it outside, took one last look at the cockpit and left himself.

Outside he knelt by Raven's side pressing his forehead to it.  
It had been love on sight. Rust first saw Raven on Galorie's Aerial Stunt Contest, and just knew he had to fly her. It took him over a month to steal her, and even longer before the enraged owner finally gave up the chase. And now she was dead.  
"It was a wonderful stellar-cycle, Raven. Goodbye."

He walked away slowly, and when he was far enough, he pressed the button on the box he was holding. He didn't look back at the sound of explosion. He'd said farewell to many friends. It was better not to look back.

* * *

"I ain't lettin' him in!"  
Rattrap stood in front of the lift, robot mode, fists clenched. "Over my sparkless body!"  
"Mmmm, that could be arranged," Dinobot growled, but Optimus hushed him with a gesture. He'd tried to be reasonable, but it didn't work, so...  
"One more word, Rattrap, and you'll find yourself in a holding cell!"

The small bot looked almost ready to go for it for a nano, but then he just threw his hands up. "Fine! Whatever! Trust a Pred! Just don't run cryin' to me when ya wake up with his sword in yer back!" He stormed away.

Optimus breathed deeply to cool his circuits and calmed down. "Cheetor, show Dinobot where the living quarters are."  
When the two disappeared inside Axalon, Primal sighed and turned to the last Maximal present.  
"Did I make a mistake?"  
Rhinox looked at him thoughtfully. "Hmm, maybe...but I don't think so."

Optimus closed his gorilla eyes and shook his head tiredly. "Rattrap is right. I am an exploration vessel commander, not a war leader." He looked up at his friend. "You would make a lot better work of it."  
It was rhino's turn to shake his head. "Don't even ask me, Optimus. I didn't accept promotion back then, I wont accept it now. Besides, you're doing just fine."  
Gorilla tried to smile wearily. "I really hope you're right..."

* * *

Bad mood seemed to be contagious that day.  
Tarantulas was furious. Fuming. Enraged. Absolutely mad. He'd just examined the ships engines, and confirmed that the cruiser was grounded. And that meant that he (and the rest of the Predacons, but who cares?) was stuck on this disgusting dirtball.  
May the Pit swallow the Tripredicus Council and the whole PSP **(Predacon Secret Police)** with it!  
It was bad enough that he was assigned to such a lowly task as invigilating Megatron. He knew the reasons. After he'd got half of his squad and five head scientists killed in his last assignment, he was lucky to even be alive.

But WHY had those incompetents let Megatron escape? And TWICE at that!? He'd given them the exact time and details of the planned theft, he'd given them coordinates of the hideout, and what did they do? They passed information to the Maximals. MAXIMALS!!! Who sent an exploration ship after a battle cruiser commanded by a Predacon general. Former, and without an army, but general nonetheless. ($&&) slaggin' STUPID!  
He punched a wall few times and strode through dark corridors, fuming silently.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evergreen forest was now just a blur far back on the horizon, replaced by a grassy plain. The plain that was ending abruptly in a steep rock face. Up ahead, cutting at the sky, where the mountains, gray-blue and white. And occupying the valley between the two was a massive woodland. It wasn't on fire. It only looked like it.

The gray wolf with a black container on his back was standing on the edge of the cliff, soaking in _everything_. Oh Primus, he just had to remember this! Let's see.

The smell of rotting leaves - accord of few deep notes.  
The frosty air - high pitched, crowded, fast notes.  
The mountains - a rumbling background few octaves down.

But how to transcribe to sounds all those reds, oranges, yellows and occasional greens? Tricky. Maybe leveled, middle pitched tune with undertones sliding around it?

He tried that out and grinned. Yep. Sounded just like autumn forest.  
It was his most private and highly guarded secret. He had hundreds of such tunes stored in his datatrax, and all he had to do was to replay one in his mind for memories to explode behind his optics.  
He stood there yet for a while, and then resumed his search.

* * *

It was few solar-cycles later. Things settled down a little, enough for Rhinox to concentrate on his job. But he encountered some difficulties...  
He tapped his fingers on a datapad, but its content refused to change. It was Axalon's cargo register.  
"Somethin' buggin' ya, buddy?"  
"I wanted to work on our comlinks to eliminate communication problems..."  
"But?"  
"But we don't have enough component's. Most of a long range comm equipment and its spare parts were in cargo hold #7."  
"The one I spent a whole solar-cycle patchin' up?"  
"Yep."  
"So now wadda ya do?"  
"Work with what I have."  
"Which is nothin'. Eh, we're all gonna die."  
"It's not funny, Rattrap."  
"Can ya see me smilin'?"

* * *

Rust hid an energon feeder in his backpack and stretched his arms, fresh influx of energy spreading through his body. Hunting was fun and satisfying, but energon kept him going for longer. And it looked like it would take a looooong time to find Megs. And he had to find him.  
Because he'd sworn to protect and obey Megatron, and rouge as he was, he always honored his word. Period.

He activated backpack's clamps, tossed it in the air, beastmoded and jumped under it as it fell. It clamped neatly to his back, and Rust grinned a wolfish grin of self-admiration. He then trotted along mountain ridge until he reached the point where it sloped down. To the left slope was descending in a long, curved and almost snow-free pass. To the right it was steep and covered with knee-high layer of snow. The safe way and the fast way.  
Sheesh, these choices were killing him. Hehehe.  
YeeeeeHaaaaaaa!!!

* * *

Inside a cave weaved in patchwork of cobwebs Tarantulas checked the monitors and muttered something unrepeatable in irritation. First the huge energon storm forced him to shut down all systems, then Megatron summoned him to inspect one of computers, claiming that it had served as a transporter only a mega-cycle ago (the spider chuckled at the thought; like anyone on the planet had a knowledge to build such thing!), and now this.

He'd build about fifty arachnoids that everybody called 'flash-lights' (they were handy spy-devices in fact) and have send half of them to investigate a signal his scanners had picked up some time ago. The signal turned out to be a small Maximal beacon, lying amid other parts scattered on the desert. Most of them where too big for arachnoids to move, but Tarantulas, chuckling evilly, made them collect smaller parts, the beacon included. Teeheehee, Maximals will be in for a little surprise when he lays his hands on that...

He'd been monitoring arachnoids' movements through the screens and everything was fine till one of links went dead. He'd blamed it on interferences at the time, but now four more screens showed static. Something was destroying his devices!

He sat behind the console and remotely turned one of arachnoids around. The screen showed nothing but other machines, marching steadily, and a lot of sand. No weather anomalies, no Maximals, nothing.

And just when Tarantulas thought that whatever the problem had been, it was gone now, vision on the screen shook and spun, showing something red, with a hint of opalescent. Spider gawked, then swiftly switched to another 'flash-light', and turned it around to see the mysterious attacker.

A cat. A handsome red cat with a piece of metal scrap in its mouth. As Tarantulas watched, it tossed it to the air, caught it again, shook it a little, and when it failed to move, dropped it to the ground and started towards him...toward his devises, that is.

Oh no you don't! He hastily turned on the speakers, set volume on high and bellowed "GET OUT OF HERE ACURSED FELINE!!!"

The cat did its best to beat a record in vertical jump, and then disappeared in a cloud of dust.

* * *

Rust sneezed and smiled a wolfish smile at a little cloud that formed before him. He snapped at it cheerfully. He was having really great time, running, hunting and...and... going somewhere? He frowned suddenly and shook his head.  
Searching for Megatron.  
What was wrong with him, slaggit?

He tried to remember what he'd been doing lately, and though it was pretty monotonous, (going up, going down, going up, going down), he was sure there were holes in his memory. Like when he was sliding down a slope, thinking of re-energizing...and then suddenly he was lapping from the stream, blood on his head and paws.  
What was happening? Maybe the pod messed up his memory chips after all?  
Well, one more reason to hurry up the search. Megatron had CR-tanks on his ship.

* * *

For some time things went smoothly, the days ran by, filled with minor skirmishes and peaceful scheming, and then everything happened at the same time.

Tarantulas rushed into his lair and lunged for the scanners. They'd had another little 'battle' with Maximals, but to the Pit with that, the _signal_, had his scanner picked up the signal?!  
Yes!  
Frequency, scan, save.  
Frequency from his datatrax, download, compare.  
Do they match?

Visor narrowed, mandibles gritted, Tarantulas stared at the screen and waited...

_Frequencies match  
_

...and a pure, intense hatred flooded him, gluing him to the place. He had no idea how long he was standing there, glaring at the two simple words.

_Frequencies match _

It was a sudden movement on the other screen that finally unfroze him. Vision from one of arachnoids was hopping wildly, and it was no great mystery why. The cat was back.  
Tarantulas darted to the console.  
"DON'T YOU TOUCH THAT YOU BLASTED ANIMAL!"

The blasted animal jumped few steps away, but didn't bolt this time. It cocked its head, watching the strange noisy things curiously, and then followed them.

"Oh I HOPE you will follow them straight to my lair, cat! I'll show you what curiosity is all about! I'll keep you alive for MONTHS!"

_Bleep_ **Tarantulas!** Scorponok's panicked voice came through the comlink.  
The spider-bot whirled in place.  
"WHAT!?"  
**Megatron is badly damaged!**

* * *

Rust scaled another peak, straightened up and breathed deeply, savoring the sight, the freezing sensation in his air intakes and the way his strained joints relaxed. Mmmm...

Up here energon fields were very weak, allowing him to stay in robot mode much longer, and he eagerly exploited that. Scaling was fun, and the fact that an energon surge could kick in unexpectedly, messing up his coordination, only added thrill to it. Mmmm, the thrill...  
And the memory lapses seemed to subside, which was good news as well.  
His optics shining brightly, Rust checked his inner scanner, more out of habit than hope, and laughed suddenly.  
"Whaddaya know, it's working!"

_Unit located; energy level: 100; status: functional, on-line; vector: 2-5-7 _

"Cool!" It was very limited information, true, but, as he was told, it was the price of the range and secrecy. Megatron didn't even know he had a small tracking device half-fused into his hard core...  
_Here I come, Megs! You wont escape me now!  
_With a brilliant smile the young bot beastmoded (his backpack fell off of his robot back and almost immediately clamped to his wolf one - hey, he was getting better and better at this!) and hit the road. Er...the mountains. Er, oh, whatever!  
But just as his thoughts dissolved into a warm haze of happiness and satisfaction, the readings changed.

_status: damaged, off-line;_

NO! Nonononono, his oath! He didn't waste time freezing in terror or shouting.

He _shot_ out of place, speeding through the mountains.  
It was sheer panic that was driving him running along crests, sliding down to passes, flying in wild leaps over cracks. If he didn't keep his word... He _had_ to keep his word!  
He was barely aware of his surrounding blurring past him.  
Two words were burning in his mind.  
_damaged, off-line;  
_Damaged. Not terminated. Not yet.  
He ran.

* * *

The CR-tank's platform rose, and Megatron emerged, roaring in remembered pain. It took him few nanos to realize that pain wasn't there any more, that he was safe in his base.  
What happened? He looked up at cheering Scorponok, and asked that out loud.

Tarantulas stepped back from the console, where he had been overseeing the restoration.  
"You and Waspinator were returned to us, badly damaged."  
Megatron closed his eyes, trying to dig up memories from his clouded mind. He nodded slowly.  
"Yess. I remember now"

* * *

_functional, on-line;_

Rust collapsed on his muzzle. Panic had worn off over two mega-cycles ago, and since then he'd been going on by pure determination. Now he was paying for it. The world was spinning around him, flashing in bright colors (hey, nice colors...) and all his circuits were queuing up to complain about overtime and bad working conditions.

He needed to recharge.  
No, he needed to refuel.  
No, he needed a CR-tank...

_Megatron, I'm gonna kill you. Well, maybe not you, but_ somebody...

Lesson to remember, children: transforming while seriously over-strained and energon depleted _hurts_.  
He whined softly, pulling out the feeder and energon crystals.  
_I shall remember that experience fondly...**after**__ the pain wears off..._

He dug himself a hole in the snow, crawled in, and only after he did that he wondered why. Perhaps the beast instincts kicked in...but he was in robot mode... But before he could give that a second thought, the universe waved goodbye and shut him out.

* * *

Optimus's consciousness drifted in the darkness, trying to find something familiar it could relate to. It remembered a brief, intense pain, remembered its body disappearing...

Its body. His body. Where was it?

He thought he could sense it somewhere near...near, but beyond his reach. He needed help. There was someone who could help...

Maximals. Yes. He remembered now. And as he concentrated on the memory, he heard faint voices. Was it Rhinox? And Rattrap... sounding upset. And another raised voice responding him. An argument? No, they couldn't be fighting. He was alone and afraid and needed their help. But could he reach them? What if he couldn't?

_Maximals..._  
Silence.  
"Maximals! Come in, are you receiving?"  
Silence still. What if they couldn't hear him?  
"Maximal Command Base, this is Optimus."  
_Can you hear me? Please, can you hear me?_  
**Optimus? This is Rhinox, where are you?**  
_Oh, thanks the Matrix..._  
"Hard to say. I think my body is locked inside the alien probe, but--"

An accented voice interrupted him.  
**We'll come and getcha. Just keep static**

He'd never thought he would be so glad to hear that voice. Nor that it could hold so much concern. It helped him to calm down and focus.  
"Just beware Predacon attack. They'll be after you, now that you're outnumbered. Rattrap, you're in charge"

_Because Cheetor is out of the question, Dinobot...he would cause too much trouble, and Rhinox would never forgive me. And because there's so much concern in your voice. __Please come and get me out of here..._

* * *

Rust was waked three mega-cycles later by a surge shock. He cursed half-heartedly, unhooked the feeder, beastmoded and slept on. He dimly noted that something changed, but he didn't care. The universe could collapse and reborn several times for all he cared right now. He needed rest!

...

_Hallo, this is your self-preservation speaking, wake up!_

_I mean it, there's something wrong, sleepyhead!_

_Something is suffocating you, WAKE UP!_

With a growl Rust jumped to his feet. 'Suffocate' was exaggerating; the pressure was very weak, and the air was still tolerable. His beast mode instincts were a bit paranoid...  
Well, ok, they probably weren't used to being buried under ten feet of snow. He knew it was ten feet, because he took time to measure the tunnel he'd dug to the surface. He must have slept through some heavy snowing. Two solar-cycles of heavy snowing, to be exact.  
He yawned, hooking himself to the feeder again. The pain and dizziness were gone, but he was hungry. He caught himself thinking about rabbits, deer, birds, ferrets...

"Energon is just fine, you bloodthirsty creature..." and he laughed silently at the sound of it.  
_Loneliness is getting at you, isn't it. Well, you've spent most of your live among people. Even when you where hiding from them in some cargo-hold, you could still sense them. You miss that, don't you.._.  
He yawned again.  
"Talking to yourself is a sign of madness," he said and chuckled. "Which means half of our crew is insane. I should fit in nicely."

IF he would find them... He checked his Megs-checker. Still on-line, still on the planet. Good.  
When he felt full he trotted onward, and after few more slopes he discovered that his mad race had took him almost all the way through the mountain range.  
He took one look at the magnificent open space before him, mostly filled with water, and whistled loudly in appreciation.

Whistling loudly in snow-laid mountains is NOT a wise thing to do. Rust learned about it the hard way.

&&&&

OW. Oooow. Owowowowowow my head ow ow owowow my paws owmy tail... my tail! do I still have my tail? OW. I have. It hurts. Owowowowow my back... owowowowowowoowow my _everything_! WHAT _happened_?

After some serious howling done, he was finally able to focus. He could barely move, the air was stiff and he was surrounded by a cold whiteness.

_Primus, I HATE deja vu's... They are waste of time! And I don't have time to waste_!

_So maybe you should start digging, smart head? OW! No, start internal repairs first..._

It took him a long time to free himself from a snowy grave. He didn't bother to measure the tunnel this time. He was sore, and hungry, and he'd had enough snow to last him a life time (_ha!_), and if his famous luck didn't come back with a _very_ good excuse it would end up discovering how extremely displeased with it Rust was! Grrrrr!  
But then he looked up and his bad mood was kicked away in an instant. He was practically at the seashore. And he loved water! He loved how it looked, how it sounded, how it reflected light... and now he had all intention of discovering if swimming was such fun as it looked like for fleshlings.

It was. And some fish were dumb enough to swim straight into his jaws. All praise the beast mode!

* * *

An eagle flied over a mountaintop, a king of the skies, powerful and majestic, he roamed free... up until the point when he was hit by a red blur and swallowed whole.  
Terrorsaur shook few odd feathers off his beak and belched. It was good to be a Predacon. It was even better to be a Predacon on his off time, flying wherever his fancy took him, and, most important of all, it was good to be very far away from the scheming, cheating bastard that went by the name of Megatron. What a dumb name, anyway. Did it even mean anything? No! Did it sound good? No! It's only (dubious) merit was it was supposed to belong to a great Decepticon leader. Yeah, right. If the guy were so great, he wouldn't be dead now. Did he do his leadery duty of conquering the galaxy and ensuring that his descendants were the masters of it? No! Did he, at least, created a universe where a mech minding his own business could get drunk and not wake up an employee of a trigger-happy megalomaniac? No! Great work there, First Megatron!  
Terrorsaur belched again, and dropped the angsting in favor of savoring the satisfying weight in his stomach. The beast-mode had seriously hampered his speed, but it had its merits too. And though the waste disposal was messy, it was always fun to try and drop crap and pellets on his comrades' heads. Not as much fun as a good gladiator fight or a night in a bar, but hey, a bot had to enjoy what he had, since a certain purple reject decided to drag him to some uninhibited dirt-ball...

Such was Terrorsaur's state of mind when he, so to speak, rounded a corner and came face to face with a gigantic, floating energon storage. It was really small wonder that the first thing he thought of upon accidentally super-charging himself was a serious Megatron skid-plate kicking.

* * *

Few solar-cycles after the 'avalanche incident', Rust was sitting comfortably, enjoying the wind in his fur, and singing at the top of his lungs. He allowed himself that breach of security, because he was in the middle of the ocean, with no sentient in sight, and he could barely hear himself anyway. It wasn't any of his compositions, of course. They were only music, without words. No, he was singing a marine song he picked up from four-armed, tailed fleshlings from Oni System. He'd spent a wonderful month with them, and learned a lot.

For example: there he was, alone on the beach, and he only had some tools and parts in his backpack, and some trees nearby, and fleshling-acquired knowledge, and voila, here he was now, in his very own jet-engined, trans-ocean vessel.  
Ok, so name it a boat. But it did have a small jet engine. He _knew_ it would come in handy...  
Yes, he'd learned a lot at Oni-Prima. Sailing, fishing, star-navigating, not collapsing in shock at the sight of people singing in public... Yes, it _did_ happen to him once... Hehehe. It scared them a lot, they thought he had fit or something... Mmmm, Oni-Prima...

And Megatron chose that pleasant, wistful moment to scare him again. At least this time there was a flicker of energy level, indicating fighting, before status went  
_damaged, off-line;_

And since there was nothing Rust could do to increase his speed, he just sat there, in his homemade boat, singing even louder to drown out the feeling of dread. It worked. When few mega-cycles later his Megs-checker informed him that the Predacon leader was restored once more, he barely felt relieved, he was so relaxed. Or maybe it was effect of hyperventilation. Or just plain old weariness. He didn't really care. He curled at the bottom of his vessel and slept.

The change in the roar of the waves woke him up just in time to avoid the crash. He hauled the boat to the shore, secured it and did his best to hide it (well, you never know, it _could_ be useful again someday!).

Then he turned inland and checked the coordinates.  
He grinned a wolfish grin.  
"Here I come!"

End part one

* * *

(Chapter edited on 21.11.2007)


	2. Double agent? NOT in my job description!

**Disclaime**r: This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here. **  
Dedication:** This chapter is for Sapphfire, and every other person who loves Rattrap. Which means I'm dedicating this to myself. I'm weird.

**A/N**: I love the "Double Jeopardy" episode, but the plot holes in it could swallow whole Axalon crew and then some. I hope this slightly changed version makes more sense.

**Spoilers**: Cameo of "Fallen comrades", big spoilers for "Double Jeopardy".

-

**Mission: To save Beast Warriors**

Part two

**Words 'double agent' were NOT in my job description!**

_The Maximals fix their radio connection problems, Rattrap has his Big Day, and Rust unsocializes with his teammates._

_-_

_- _

"So, what is it, Rhinox?"  
"Possible solution for our communication problems. Since we can't transmit signal strong enough to cut through energon fields, I thought we could just amplify it on the way."  
"How?"  
"With these." The green bot laid few metallic objects on a table. "Simple amplifiers. They will receive radio transmissions and send it further, without decoding it or modifying it in any way. If we place enough of them in a grid pattern, we should be able to communicate on quite a large area."  
"Whaddaya mean, 'should?'" Rattrap leaned on Rhinox shoulder, scrutinizing the small discs laid out on the table.  
"Well, we still have to test it--"  
"Oh, I can test it!"  
A collective "NO" from all bots echoed in the control room. Cheetor looked at their leader pleadingly.  
"Come on, Optimus, let me at it! I won't screw up this time, promise!"  
"No, Cheetor. _**I**_ am going to test it. YOU can go with me--  
"Ultra Gear!"  
"--IF you'll remove all that paint from Rattrap's door within a mega-cycle."  
"Awww..."  
"You wanted to say something?"  
Cheetor recognized the tone of voice and shook his head. He wanted to get out of the base, and if he had to destroy his handiwork in order to do so (and why was Rattrap so upset, it was just a 'biological contamination' warning sign!), so be it.  
"An' I'm gonna sit there an' watch, kiddo, so don't get any more ideas," Rattrap warned, following him off the bridge.

Rhinox laughed softly. "You should have added 'consider yourself grounded, young bot'."  
Optimus smiled and sat down. "Maybe I should. He keeps getting himself in trouble, and every time the only thing I can think of is, what would I tell Levers if anything happened to him."  
Rhinox cocked his head. "His protector?"  
"More than that. His creator."  
The technician raised optic ridges. "Rare thing."  
"Tell me about it. And besides being Cheetor's creator, he's one of my best friends. We fought together through quite a chunk of war; we used to meet sometimes after it ended, and recall all stupid things we were doing to forget we could die anytime, you know how it is... and Cheetor was listening, with optics big as skylights. And the very day he came of age, Levers called me. 'Optimus, help, my son wants to join Rangers'."  
"Closest thing to an army he could find."  
"Exactly. So I said, 'don't worry, I'll take him for an exploration trip and he will have an adventure without risking his life.'" Optimus winced. "I should have bitten my tongue."  
"Come on, none of us is fortuneteller."  
"Sometimes I wish I was. /_sigh_/ So...where are we to place the amplifiers?"  
"I have prepared few versions of the grid, it all depends on what distance they will work..."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty! Where are you, kitten?" Tarantulas ran an arachnoid in circles, usually the best way to attract the cat. "Here, kitty, kitty!" he cooed, glancing at the screens. Not a blotch of red fur anywhere. "Where are you, blast you?! Don't disappear on me now! I have a pretty little cage ready, just for you!"

Not to mention all the experiments planned...But the cat mischievously departed just when the arachnoids were about two solar-cycles from reaching spider's lair. Slaggin' feline!  
"I'll find you, just you wait!"

_Bleep_ **Megatron to Tarantulas! Where are you, spider?**

Muttering curses he left the console.  
"Tarantulas here. What do you want?"  
**Have you made that programming chips already?**  
"I've prepared one, but--"  
**Bring it to me at once. We have a stasis pod falling.**

&&&&

Megatron barked an order and both flyers whipped off a salute and took off immediately. Waspinator because he wanted to show what a loyal and able soldier he was, and Terrorsaur because he still remembered how the purple tyrant had swept the floor with him after the floating mountain incident. Megatron hadn't even bothered to fire, he'd just beaten the slag out off him, and Terrorsaur hadn't dared transform and fight back. He wasn't suicidal, after all.  
_But I will get you for that, Megatron. For that and for how you swindled me on Gladius_.  
But for now, he obeyed.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megatron might be interested in a fact that, while he battled, trying - and failing miserably - to wrench the newest bot out off the Maximals' clutches, half a continent away something alien arrived at the swamps surrounding the lake.  
It was going through it with speed never seen here before, making noises never before heard. Thousands of birds took off in panicked swirls of colorful feathers, as it came their way. Every now and then the thing would leap to the air with a loud /_snap_/, and some bird would screech indignantly at the feather pulled out off its tail. Then the strange invader would fall back to the ground, with more racket. The normally peaceful swamps were boiling with movement, colors and sounds.

The alien finally stopped and fell to the ground, gasping rapidly. If someone saw it, they could, with some imagination, distinguish vaguely wolfish outlines under four inches thick layer of mud. The possibly-wolf closed its eyes and laughed some more. It was, basically, drunk with excitement. In its head the swish of wings was coiling itself into a tune.  
_This planet is wonderful_...

* * *

The swamps weren't the only unwilling host to a strange visitor. The serenity of a desert was bout to be disturbed as well.

_Shuffle shuffle shuffleshuffleshuffle/_ - soft noises of arachnoids' legs on sand were the only thing that disturbed night silence, until something looking much like a yellow-eyed demon appeared before them and raised one of them in its pincer. Then the night filled with a mad laughter.

* * *

"Oy, Fearless Leader, are ya dere?"  
**Optimus here. What is it, Rattrap?**  
"Wit' my usual, or rather, _unusual_ skills, I found us a sweet little hole in da ground, full of retrievable energon."  
**That's great! Where is it?**  
"Well, a bit closer to da Preds' grounds than I like, but it's out of sight and da chances are, they donno about it. Sector 15, point 3-5-2/4-2-9"  
**All right, you and Dinobot carry on your task; I'll come with Cheetor to mine. Our reserves are getting low.**  
"Got it. Rattrap out."

The small bot looked at his companion.  
"Well, ya heard 'im. Here," he tossed a pack of metal discs to Dinobot. "Ya go plant 'em on 3-4 line, an' I'll take care of 3-2."

"Hnn, we shouldn't split up, vermin. This area _is_ close to the Predacon ground."

"Hey, no way I'm spendin' a whole solar-cycle wit' ya! And da sooner we finish, da sooner we can get outta here."  
Dinobot snarled, but didn't argue. This way, he wouldn't have to suffer Rattrap's company. It was worth a risk.

A few mega-cycles later they returned to base, to find Optimus emerging from the CR-Chamber.  
"Optimus? What happened?"  
Primal tested his arm. "Megatron himself plus the flyers. Looks like they _did_ know about that energon dale."

Rattrap glanced automatically at the other CR. "Is kiddo all right?"  
"I'm fine!" Cheetor bounced into the room. "You should've seen this action, Rattrap!"  
He went on about the fight, encouraged along by Rattrap's unflattering comments on the Predacon's intelligence.  
Above the two bots' heads, Optimus exchanged glances with Dinobot.  
_Why us? _

* * *

Rattrap looked up from the poker game he was playing, jumped in alarm and activated his comlink.  
"Rattrap to Rhinox, come in!"  
**Rhinox here. Something wrong?**  
"Where are ya? Ya disappeared from da scanners!"  
**Did we? Strange. We're at 4-2-7/4-6-6, grid Septa. We shouldn't be out of range yet.**  
"Tell me about it. How are ya doing, anyway?"  
**Hnn, we would be doing much better without your babbling, rodent.**  
"Hey! Nobody asked _yer_ opinion, Scale-belly!"

**We're almost done. Three more amplifiers, and we're going back**  
Rattrap smirked at the undignified snarl in the background. It sounded like a certain raptor's mouth had been closed and kept that way by force.  
"Gotcha! See ya in few megas"

But barely two mega-cycles afterwards he was screaming franticly through the speaker for Optimus to give Rhinox and Dinobot back up NOW!  
And then he listened, with his hands shaking, to the gunfire coming from his comlink.  
"Come on, come on, get outta there..."  
Blast it all, why it was _him_ tied up to the radio when the Preds were attacking his friends again? If anything happened... He cut out the thought.

&&&&

"They just popped out of nowhere," Rhinox rumbled. "We were lucky you and Cheetor were so close."

Optimus watched grimly the four fleeing figures. They'd come in almost full squad and hid at the two Maximals' path. As if they knew exactly where and when...  
He shook his head. He was being paranoid. They had no way of knowing. It must have been a coincidence.  
"I'm glad I've changed my patrol route," he said. "Or rather, I'm glad Cheetor did."  
Cheetor smiled. For once his impulsiveness turned out for good. If it weren't for his inclination for racing cheetahs, they would have been way too far away to give any aid.  
"Can you walk?" Optimus asked worriedly. The two had taken some bad damage.  
"I'll manage," Rhinox assured him. Dinobot snarled an agreement.  
"Well then, let's go."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* * *

Few solar-cycles later, some dozen miles up north, a keening of a wounded animal washed over uncaring plains.  
/OWWWWWWWWWW! OW! Owwwowowowowowow!/  
Rust was lying on his side, howling softly. It was the only action he dared to undertake. His beast-mode was trying to die. His nanites were trying to prevent it. The rest of him just suffered.

Note to self: never, ever, chase anything that moves despite the lack of legs, no matter how cool its colors are!

Maybe it was time to catch up on education... He closed his eyes and searched his datatrax for files he'd downloaded from the Exploration Treasures' Museum. Somehow, he never had time to actually go through them... Well, now he had. He plowed through the mass of data.  
No legs, no legs... ah, here we are! Reptiles, hm? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the mountains, an interesting occurrence was about to take place. It started with a gust of wind, and a mist, creeping over the snowy slopes. Then the mist thickened, the wind intensified, and the ground started shaking, as if fearing the shrouded in mist intruder that slowly drifted above it. The rocks howled with strain as the small cracks and crevices widened under the unseen force beating at them from above. And then, just as unhurriedly as it came, the blob of mist moved away, and left the story to enter it again at a later date. But in its wake, it left a freshly opened canyon. The snow cascaded from its edges, uncovering a metallic shell.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Radar beeped, and Rhinox blinked. "What?"  
Optimus half turned to him. "Something new?"  
"It looks like a beacon signal from a stasis pod!"  
"A pod?" Optimus immediately moved closer to watch. "Why didn't we see it falling?"  
Rhinox didn't even have to ponder. "It must be one of the pods that fell during the battle. Remember, when that fighter--"  
Optimus nodded. "You're right. Will the Predacons pick up the signal as well?"  
Rhinox's optics ran over the data. "Not a chance. The signal's too weak to reach them."  
"Well, it'll be good not have to worry about them for once." Optimus said with a smile and hit the comlink button. "Dinobot..."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Most snake species are poisonous," Rust mumbled. "NOW they tell me."  
He read on.  
_Some of them are in native tongues called, for instance, 'two steps' or 'five cycles', which indicates how long the victim lives after the poison is inflicted_.  
"How extremely reassuring..."  
_Fortunately, the poison only affects organic life forms, and Cybertronians may walk through the jungle without fear_--  
"HA, HA, HA, very slaggin' funny! OW!"  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The CR-Chamber was about to finish the repair cycle. Inside it, Optimus started to wake up. It was a disturbing feeling, when his consciousness seemed to drift for a moment in the darkness. It resembled all too much what he'd experienced when the alien probe landed. The memory angered him. The Maximals were there for him when he needed them, and now he was failing them! He'd lost the pod; he'd almost got Rhinox and Dinobot killed... He should have had realized something was wrong after the ambush at the energon dale, slaggit!

The CR door opened, and Primal stormed out of it and slammed his fists on the table. "This makes three straight operations ambushed!"

"Sounds mighty suspicious."  
"Like some rat slipping info."  
"Hey!" Rattrap protested. He was getting fed up with making fun of his beast-mode!

Dinobot growled.  
"It was Rattrap who led us into a box canyon. He was also never targeted, and was alone each time an ambush occurred. He could have easily relayed the information on our location."

The control room boiled. Dinobot was accusing Rattrap, Rhinox and Cheetor were defending him hotly, while Rattrap himself settled for insulting the raptor.  
Optimus didn't really listen to the argument. He was looking at Rattrap. In his head, everything he knew about him from Rhinox, everything he'd observed for himself, and all recent events formed themselves into a very interesting picture.

_Maybe_...

Rhinox slammed his fist on the table. "Rattrap wouldn't do that!"

_Wouldn't he, now_? Optimus was staring at Rattrap without really seeing him. "I'm not so sure," he murmured, mostly to himself. He noticed shocked looks on three robots' faces, and Dinobot's smirk. His optics focused. "Rattrap, I want a word with you. In private." He gestured towards the corridor. The small bot gaped at him incredulously, then left without a word.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megatron drummed his fingers against the armrest. "Tarantulas, is the programming complete?"  
The spider-bot hunched over the pod's console didn't even raise his head.  
"I could do it a lot faster if I had a chip prepared."  
_If you hadn't got it trashed, you stupid, arrogant_...  
"I have to type all the codes in manually, it takes time."

Actually, what he was doing right now had nothing to do with behavior programming. He'd entered physical set-up data and was rewriting it. The Maximals believed that the outer shell didn't matter. He knew otherwise. What's the point of having an _ugly_ female around? He was changing the crude lines the pod wanted to shape the protoform in into something much more interesting.

He glanced furtively at the DNA scanner and frowned. No tarantulas in range. Oh well, some other species would have to do.

He returned to the shell program and started adding some safe guards, just in case. Megatron could be as impatient as he wanted, Tarantulas was not going to lose such a great opportunity to test his talents.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap slammed Optimus's quarters' door with a volley of words that made Cheetor gasp in a mix of shock and awe. Rhinox frowned. Rattrap hadn't been using such language for decades! He was about to go after the small bot, when his comlink beeped. The voice that came was only heard by him.  
_--Message from Optimus for your circuits only-- _

He turned from the others. "What is it?" he murmured almost inaudibly, absently wondering why Optimus chose the 'silent channel' over a tight beam.  
**I want you to check our comm equipment and then the whole control room for bugs, and if the outcome is nothing, then...**  
"Yes?"  
**Then I want you to give me a tap device I could bug Rattrap with.**  
"Optimus, this is--"  
**This is an order, Rhinox. Optimus out.**

&&&&

Leaning over the code-breaker, Terrorsaur chuckled. So, the Maxis thought they had a spy onboard, huh? Oh, this was sweet!

Then he fell silent. Maybe... maybe... he could use it?  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After two mega-cycles Rhinox had to accept his defeat. He'd check the entire control room four times, and he found nothing. And that meant that now, as much as he hated it, he had to follow the second order. A tap device... to spy on his best friend.

&&&&

Rattrap was lying in his room, fuming.  
_Who does this ape thinks he is? Playing practice target was not in my contract, I know 'cause I've checked_!

_But_...  
Yes. The 'but'.

With a sigh he got up and rummaged in the pile of his belongings, until he found a small, flat box. He opened it and looked at its contents. He hadn't used it for so long, he wasn't sure he still could. Funny, the way he was dragging this with him after all that time.  
He closed the box and hid it in his wrist compartment.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Did you make it?"  
Rhinox silently pointed at the table. Optimus pretended he didn't notice the way the technician was looking at him.  
_I'm sorry, old friend, but I really have no other choice_.  
He picked up the small disk and pressed the button.

* * *

**So, how does it work?**  
**It's basically a one-way comlink. I didn't have time to make anything more sophisticated. OR a will.**  
**Rhinox, if he is innocent, this is the best way to prove it.**

**Never mind. /_Beep_/ Rattrap, report to the control room.**

Terrorsaur glanced over his shoulder. No one was paying him any attention. Tarantulas had finally finished his work, and now all Predacons were watching Blackarachnia practicing her combat moves. And no matter how hard they tried to hide it, the dactyl-bot knew they were drooling inside. He was, after all. But now he had more important things to think about...

**Whaddaya want?**  
**We've found some energy disturbances near sector 12. You'll check it.**  
Straining his hearing, Terrorsaur managed to distinguish a small click of metal on metal.  
**Me an who else?**  
**Only you. I don't want to risk anyone _accidentally_ bumping into Predacons.**

The rat's response made Terrorsaur chuckle. With the rat's attitude and suspicions already aroused, this would be all too easy! He turned to Megatron.

"Megatron, there's a lone Maximal heading to our grounds. Shall I take care of him?"  
_Yes, yes, please say yes, send me there_...  
The purple bot waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to tear the gaze from his newest recruit. "Yess, do that."

With a smirk, Terrorsaur left. On his way out he stopped by Scorponok's lab and pinched one specific tool.  
_Especially for you, Megatron_.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many bots who knew him would say that Rattrap was overly pessimistic. Rattrap wouldn't agree, because he knew best that, usually, when he was thinking things like '_Holy stinking slag! I'm gonna die_!' he actually had a reason. Like now.  
Terrorsaur's attack had caught him by surprise. One fast blow to the back of the head, and he was lying on the ground, staring at the wrong end of the Predacon's blaster. He hadn't had time to do anything, even to say one word, for Primus sake!

"Well, well, look who decided to turn up," a screechy voice said mockingly. "Nice to see you, _Maximal_. Anything you want to tell me?"

_Huh_?  
Blinking in amazement at not being terminated, Rattrap looked up in the red optics.  
"An' what wouldja wanna know?" he asked carefully.  
"Everything useful, of course. But.." Terrorsaur paused for a moment. He had to choose the words carefully, if he wanted the conversation sound like just a weird twist to Rattrap, and like an open treason to the listening Maximals. "...but the most desirable would be hearing that you've finally got tired of your so call _teammates_."

For a moment Rattrap was sure his audios were deceiving him.  
_I don't believe it. It's gonna be all too easy_!  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot was triumphing.  
"Will you still defend your friend?"  
On the radio, the exchange between Rattrap and Terrorsaur continued, but Rhinox refused to listen.  
"This is some... I don't... Rattrap would never--" Rhinox's voice failed him as Rattrap's voice rose in volume, loud, decided and clear.

**Computer, change da activation code**  
Terrorsaur's laugh could be heard, and then...  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Terrorsaur finally noticed what he'd been looking for. "Hey, and what's this?" He pulled a small disk off Rattrap's shoulder plate. "A bug, huh?"  
That made Rattrap jump. He hadn't been informed of that little detail!  
"WHAT?! That slaggin' ape--!"  
/_BLAM/_

Terrorsaur hid his blaster and dropped the remains of the device carelessly.  
"Your friends had heard every word, rat, so if you thought of, oh, I donno, double crossing me or something..." He leaned and poked the smaller bot's chestplate. "Well, better think again, 'cause you don't have a place to go back to."  
Rattrap looked at the red bot with a dose of new respect.  
"It never crossed my mind, sir" he assured him, saluting.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following events in the Predacon base were, Rattrap had to admit, quite enjoyable. Especially the part when he had the honor of bringing the mighty Megatron down. The part when he got locked in a cage next to him was the annoying bit. Especially when the T-rex freed himself with a smug remark about his own brilliance. Then he left, probably to repair his transformation circuits, leaving the rat alone. Just as he wanted it.

Terrorsaur had made sure he was disarmed, but the small box was still in his wrist compartment. It wasn't a weapon, and the scanners didn't detect it. He took out the lock-picks.  
_Well... do I still remember how to use them_?

He shut his optics and concentrated on the touch and sounds.  
Up, down, a bit to the left, down again, slag, double catch, all right, I know this one, up-left-right, down, just a bit further...

_/click/  
Oh, come on, Megs, I've opened aircars with better locks than that_!  
The lava hissed behind him and he flinched, half expecting to hear Preds' or police's yells any nano-klik...  
Then he snorted at his own stupidity.  
_Yeah, right, not much chance for a police officers down here_.

He glanced at the barred corridor entrance in the distant wall.  
He took a deep breath. He prepared to jump.  
He looked at the lava below.  
He took a deeper breath.  
He scanned the room, hoping to find another way out.  
There was none.

_Slaggit, slaggit all, I'm just a miner, not some rusted commando_! His mind screamed as he jumped.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Optimus was quite grateful that Rattrap had chosen this day to present them with his language abilities, because it gave him plenty of things to call himself, as he sat silently, staring at the nearby ship.  
When the anger and grim determination had worn off, he suddenly realized how extremely stupid this idea was, but by then it was too late to do anything, because Rattrap had already disappeared inside the Predacon base. At least he was alive at the time.

Now Optimus could only pray that he'd leave it in the same state.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_OK, this is weird_, Rattrap thought, following a small gray creature. _Not to mention insane. But I was lost anyway, and if a rat can't trust another rat, then this is a very bad world indeed_.

He'd toured almost half the base by the feel of it. The bright side of it was that he was now armed with a few bombs and a small stun gun he'd filched from laboratory-looking room. The downside was that he still didn't find--

_--Scanning for maximal frequencies--_a metallic voice sounded somewhere below.

Rattrap crouched and peeked over platform edge.  
_Ah-ha!_  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cheetor was the first to break the silence. "What are we waiting for, Optimus?"  
"Yes, why do we not attack?" Dinobot joined.  
"You are waiting for my command," Optimus snapped with a murderous look. That quieted them down instantly. Optimus was never like that before...

_And__/I/ am waiting for a signal. I just hope there is someone to send it to me_.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A spider web popped out of nowhere, and there was no way Rattrap could avoid it.  
'_Help_!' his mind shouted, but he forced his mouth shut before they followed.  
_Yer alone here, get a grip, no point in shouting. You knew this could happen, you're prepared, remember_?  
He twitched his arm and a long blade switched out. Yet another souvenir from the past...  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Optimus's comlink beeped twice. He jumped to his feet. "We attack now! And, Dinobot..." The warrior looked at him expectantly. "I want him functional!" Dinobot only snarled.  
&&&&

The Predacon base shook under a barrage of fire, almost shaking Terrorsaur off the command chair. He screeched in a surprised dismay. A Maximal attack! They weren't supposed to attack them! They were supposed to sit and wait for _being_attacked! So what now?  
Before Terrorsaur could gather his wits, a slightly amused voice from behind almost gave him a spark attack.

"Well,_leader_, how shall we respond?"  
The Pterodactyl gaped in terror at a huge bot smiling politely at him.  
_I'm dead! I'm totally deactivated! I'm __so__ dead!  
_After a while his processor registered the meaning of the words that had been said.  
"You-you will allow me to l-lead?" and it took all his strength to say 'lead', not 'live'.

Megatron chuckled quietly. Were they on a more populated planet, Terrorsaur would have been fed to the shredder already, but when every soldier was needed, treachery had to be dealt with differently. The brute force obviously didn't work, let's see if public humiliation _and_ brute force would work any better... But meanwhile, he just smiled.

Terrorsaur gulped. Okaaay, that was scary. But since Megatron didn't do anything painful yet, he might as well play along...  
"Waspinator, release my lieutenant, everybody, prepare to engage enemy," he ordered with a barely noticeable tremor in his voice, glancing nervously at Megatron. The purple tyrant bowed slightly and positioned himself near the exit, weapons ready. Holy slag, he actually was taking his orders! Dumbfounded, the red bot terrorized and prepared for battle himself.

&&&&

In a corridor near the holding area something stirred, and then there came a muffled curse. Springing one of Tarantulas's special traps didn't go without consequences. Fortunately for the good guys' cause, this time the consequences had been paid by a Predacon. Tarantulas painfully rose from the floor where Rattrap had left him in a smoking heap. "Wait till I get you, rat!" he yelled in the general direction of Rattrap's disappearance, and then staggered towards the clamor of a battle. He was about to leave the base, when he heard two small explosions from behind. He looked back and hesitated for a nano-klik, but then disregarded it and joined the fight.

&&&&

Optimus saw clearly the defiance in Dinobot's eyes, and firmly decided not to give him a chance of getting anywhere near Rattrap. But in battle, decisions are much easier made than executed; after just a few nanos he lost sight of the raptor. The darkness of the night didn't help any. Cursing to himself he took off, hoping to grab the rat and retreat, but no such luck; Rattrap was surrounded by the Preds, and was right now raising his blaster to fire.

_Stop fidgeting, slag you! How can I miss when you keep getting in my line of fire? Oh, BLAST_!

If any of the Maximals still had doubts about Rattrap's allegiance, they disappeared the very moment their leader fell down from the sky.

Dinobot snarled triumphantly. He'd used the distraction of Optimus fall, and got to the traitorous vermin first! He pinned him to a convenient boulder.  
"I have awaited this meeting, traitor."  
_Since the very day I met you_...  
"Prepare to be terminated," he snarled, raising his sword.

Rattrap choked in the warrior's grasp. His optics were locked on the blades, all blurry in rotation, only its tip still and clear, before it came rushing at him.

"NO! Ya stupid--"  
Something bashed at the side of Dinobot's head and Rattrap was dropped to the ground. He gasped for air, looking up at his rescuer.  
_Gee, thanks, Megs_...

&&&&

The gunfire could be distinctly heard, and Rust accelerated, flattening his ears. Gunfire could mean danger for Megatron, but, more importantly...  
_A battle! My first_!  
Oh, the thrill!

&&&&

Dinobot came to his senses held in Megatron's dino-hand, with Rattrap aiming a gun at him. But the worst part was the screechy voice next to his audio, shouting "Destroy him, I command you!" He was almost sure he'd go deaf in that audio...

Rattrap's optics flickered to the sides. He was still surrounded by the Preds! What was he suppose to do now?

_Slag you, Chopper-face, if I get killed because of this, I'll have your spark for breakfast_!  
He shot at Terrorsaur, beastmoded, and ran for his life.

"That will not save you, vermin!" Dinobot had no difficulties fighting free from Megatron's grasp, and, not paying attention to anything else, he pursued the rat.  
&&&&

Rust terrorized and raised his blaster. He was still quite far away, but he had excellent night vision, even better aim, and he'd added a custom-made blaster to the packet. Its barrel was so long that it could pass for a rifle in a smaller bot's hands.  
The only problem was, there were a little bit too many targets to choose from...

A green laser cut through the darkness, hitting a rat, which squeaked and transformed. Ah, none of his comrades, therefore an enemy. Rust pulled the trigger, grinned at the result, and rushed forward on four paws.

&&&&

Rattrap ground his teeth. He knew whom the laser belonged to!  
_That's it, I'm gonna--_

A shot in the back send him flying to the ground, which probably was a good thing, because five more of Dinobot's blasts seared above him. But the warrior was taking another aim right now and--  
The ground trembled under thundering steps, and the massive form of a rhino appeared in front of him. Rattrap jumped on his back without a second thought. Phew...  
"Thanks buddy."  
Rhinox didn't respond.  
_Oh. Right. Well, let's wait till we're all safe at the base_...

&&&&

Rust howled.  
_No, come on, don't leave just yet_!

He transformed again and shot two grenades from his wrist launchers. The launchers weren't originally designed for grenades, and therefore they were dreadfully inaccurate at long range, but he almost scored. Almost. The rhino tripped, and a bot on his back screamed, but that was it. His first land battle was over.  
"Oh, slag!"

Something clicked nearby. "Rust?" came the voice full of disbelieve.  
Young bot jerked his head. The form was slightly different, but the face and voice were familiar.  
"Hi, sarge!"  
The bot blinked, then suddenly raised his claw. "Look out!"

Rust whirled around, only saw the blue-faced warrior and turned back to ask what was he supposed to be looking out for--  
--and a laser from behind tore out quite a chunk of his side. He fell to the ground, and rolled reflexively. Two more shots scorched the place he'd just left. Then the attacker retreated.

With a grunt, Rust scrambled to his feet.  
"What's going on, sarge? Why did he shoot me?" he considered it for a nano and added "this time?"  
The other bot clicked his claws again and Rust smirked. That bot had used to drum his fingers against his chestplate. Apparently, one tick was replaced by another.

"Dinobot joined the Maximals the very first day we've arrived here."  
Rust stopped and blinked.  
_Dinobot?_  
He turned his head and looked at the fleeing form of the raptor.  
_Oh_.

/_bleep_/ **Scorponok, where are you? You are to come here immediately!** /_bleep_/

_Scorponok? Who's making up these names_?  
He smiled widely. "Well, let's go," he said cheerfully, giving the shorted bot a friendly push and starting toward the front of the ship. He didn't even need to consult the Megs-checker to locate him, the yells were a clue enough. Someone was being given a lecture. Hehehe, good thing it wasn't him!

They came from around the ship and Rust chuckled inwardly at the sight of the red robot falling to the ground and loosing his head in the process. That guy had a gift for trouble!  
Megatron growled and beastmoded, as the first shocks of an energon surge went through him.  
Rust sputtered.

"If he's called 'Trexy' now, I'm gonna ROTFL (**1) **" he whispered into Scorponok's audio. He didn't react, but it was hard to tell if the reason was the excess of loyalty or the lack of understanding.  
"Megatron! Look whom I've found!"  
The T-rex frowned at the form looming behind his second-in-command, but then the blue optics flashed at him, and he grinned.  
"Ah, our brave, lost ally is back!"  
"Back and ready for duty, sir," Rust declared, giving an offhand salute.  
"Excellent. Have you picked another name?"  
"Aaaaah'd rather stick with Rust, if that's all the same for you, sir."  
"But of course. You may take this scrap--" he indicated Terrorsaur, groaning on the ground, "--to the CR-tank--"

Rust threw the body over his shoulder seemingly effortlessly, but Megatron heard a quiet grunt and saw the way he was protecting his side from the contact. Well, let's see how far we can push him...

"--and then, we have a missing new Predacon, a femme by the name of Blackarachnia. You will track her down and bring her back."

"Aye, sir." Rust picked up the red head in his left hand. "Can I repair myself before I go?"  
Megatron eyed the hole in his side as if he only just saw it.  
No point in pushing him too much, was there.  
"Oh, very well."

Rust nodded and went to the ship, tossing the protesting head up and down carelessly. He stopped that as soon as he was out of the others' sight. Well now, this new entrance led to the corridor on a second level, near the bridge, so the CR-tanks were... that way.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lift made its last tour this evening, bringing Optimus and Rattrap up. The small bot took a look around. Rhinox and Cheetor were clearly avoiding his gaze, their faces full of hurt and disappointment. Dinobot, on the other hand, looked almost happy. He'd drawn his sword already.

"Now, I will terminate the traitor myself!"  
The small bot backed away quickly, and Optimus moved to block the warrior's way.  
"Stand down, Dinobot!"

These three words, he reflected, were slowly becoming a mantra, used almost as often as 'shut up Rattrap'. Speaking of the rat...  
He turned and cleared his throat.  
"Well, Rattrap, report."  
Whatever others were expecting, it wasn't that. Rattrap smirked.

"Well, ah, we 'ave a new Pred to worry about, Blackarachnia, she has a rather nasty temper. What else? Oh, Megs keeps birdcages in place of holdin' cells. Hangin' from da ceiling. Over a lava pit. I hadta made a very difficult jump over da stuff. An' twice, I might add."  
Optimus raised his optics to the skies. "Rattrap..."  
"AND they 'ave aaaall sorta traps everywhere, even in da air ducts, and they never seem ta clean da place, ya wouldn't _believe_ da size of a cobweb I walked onto..."  
"Rattrap!"  
"All right, all right," he pulled a small chip out of his wrist compartment. "Here. Got no idea where they found that, but that's what they were usin'. A Maximal decoder. An' there was quite a pile of other parts wit' our symbol on 'em, so I left a little time bomb in there. And inna pod too, ya know, just in case."

Optimus turned the decoder over in his fingers. All this because of such a little thing. He breathed deeply.  
"Congratulations, Rattrap!" he said, extending his hand.  
"Call me a Spy Master," the small bot answered gloatingly, accepting the handshake as if it was a Galaxia prize. He resembled a small balloon filled with pride, and Optimus wouldn't have been surprised if he started floating.

"You mean, his capture, and his betrayal...were all a set-up?" came from behind him.  
Rattrap looked up at Dinobot with a smirk.  
_Ya were hoping ya got rid of me, weren't ya_...  
"Yeah," he said casually.

Dinobot remembered the scene from the battle and averted his gaze. He had every intention of going against Optimus's order, and almost killed a comrade. Shame was not an emotion he was used to dealing with. And what made it worse, was that it was Rattrap, off all bots, to cause it. He'd never thought the rat would have the nerve to accomplish such a task. How quick he was to condemn him...

Rattrap blinked as the warrior looked away and slumped his shoulders. What the--? He was used to constant fights with the raptor, and didn't know how to deal with this sudden walkover. A bit puzzled, he turned to the rest.

Cheetor was delighted (ultra gear!), but Rhinox seemed ready to kill. And by the looks of it, Optimus and himself were likely targets.

"WHY didn't you tell us?"  
"We had to keep it a secret, to keep his cover safe"  
"Yeah, I didn't want them Preds gettin' suspicious, ya know, I was quite outnumbered out there." Rattrap smiled at his friend apologetically. It must have been hard for the Big Green...

Dinobot snarled. Here was something that could help him forget about his shame for a while.  
"And _we_ are outnumbered as well," he stated.  
"What? What are ya babbling about, Dino-brain? Yer figure circuits overloaded?"  
"Hnn, Didn't you notice someone shot you at the end of the battle, ro--Rattrap?"  
"Sure I did. I'm lookin' at 'im."

Dinobot actually flinched.  
"I mean later, rodent! Someone shot you and threw explosives at Rhinox."  
Rhinox frowned. "That's true, it surprised me; none of the Predacons used grenades before..."  
"Yes. Hnn, it was none of the Predacons you know."

Optimus tensed. How could there be a second new Predacon? Did they find the other stasis pod, or... He didn't even want to think of the other possibility - that another Predacon ship had arrived. They'd be as good as dead in that case. "Who was it, then?" he asked.

Dinobot frowned. "Rust. As strange as the name may be," he added, before any of them could wonder why he was cursing all of a sudden. "You must remember the fighter jet that went down during our initial battle..."  
Everyone nodded.

"Rust was the pilot. Apparently, he survived the crash."  
Optimus sighed in relief. Not as bad as he feared, though still a problem.  
"Well, who is he, Dinobot? In the report we'd got he was only mentioned as 'unknown'."

Dinobot narrowed his optics. The fact was, he didn't know much, but what he did know...  
"I am not surprised. Whoever he is, we met him on the day of the theft. Hnn... From what I've observed, he's either insane, or Megatron has tampered with his programming. Or possibly both." He frowned again and paused.  
"Well, ah, if that's all ya 'ave ta say, Dino-butt..."  
Optimus intervened before a fight could start, and after just a few more insults, a tale begun.

------------

The theft had taken place not in the middle of the night, but in the late afternoon, when the city life hit its heights. All went according to plan, and just twenty cycles after Tarantulas and Dinobot entered the building they were back on the streets, passing the Golden Disk to Megatron, who had been waiting for them in a vehicle that _looked_ like an average air-car, but was in fact a little space shuttle in disguise. Scorponok joined them only a cycle later, after making sure none of the alarms were triggered.

Four land-bound thieves headed out in the shuttle, while the two flyers followed at a certain distance, looking out for trouble.

And the trouble did appear. Somehow, the police were waiting for them. The entire district was surrounded, and it looked impossible to escape, but Megatron tried anyway... And when all Pit broke loose, he shouted into his comlink "Rust, where are you?" and a voice Dinobot had never heard before answered **Dead ahead of you, sir!**  
"Give us cover!"  
**Aye, sir!**...  
...and a part of the wall of a building ahead of them exploded, and from the smoke and flames, a fighter emerged.

It zoomed above them and plummeted into the mass of police units, firing, and the police signatures on the scanner Dinobot was watching started to disappear as if by magic.  
But there were still too many of them on their tail to escape successfully.  
"Rust, lure them away from us!"

The fighter had suddenly jumped up, made two loops around, as if deciding what to do... and dived straight at them. It pulled up just before the crash, for a few nanos hovered above them, almost touching their shuttle... and just as suddenly, it turned at a crazy angle and sped away, disappearing among buildings. Scorponok cursed and started asking what was that all about, when most of the police forces abandoned the chase after them, going after the other ship instead.

Megatron laughed. "They think we've passed the Golden Disk to him! Excellent, yess. And how inventive!"  
They had no trouble disposing of the remaining pursuers and leaving the city. About half a mega-cycle later the fighter caught up to them.

**I lost last of them in underground ducts** the pilot seemed to be extremely pleased with himself. **Where to now, sir?**  
"Just follow us."

Soon they reached the cruiser, and they first saw their new comrade. He looked very young despise his size, and Terrorsaur made a mistake of asking who the _ki__d_ was.  
Rust immediately started explaining that he didn't like to be called a kid. He stopped the second Megatron ordered him to, and Terrorsaur managed to crawl away.

After that no one tried to annoy the newcomer, or even go near him. There was something in his smile that unnerved even Tarantulas. The scientist didn't look too happy when the young bot approached him, asking something. They disappeared into a lab for some time after that, but for what purpose, Dinobot didn't know.

There were other things that occupied his mind. They made a few random trans-warp leaps and went into hiding, because Megatron needed few days to decode information the Disk contained.

_He confirmed that, indeed, the original Megatron left an additional message in it, just as he suspected, but refused to inform Dinobot of its exact content. He only mentioned that the task it assigned required going to Earth. But the Maximals didn't really need to know that, did they_...

As for Rust... During those few days he always kept close to Megatron, always kept his blaster at his side, (never in a subspace compartment) and whenever their leader gave him an order, he was zooming through the corridors in a motorcycle mode, to fulfill it all the faster.

And one order... It wasn't even an order. Just a day before the Axalon found them, Megatron looked up from the console he'd been working at and said "Rust, I'm bored. Shoot your hand off again."

Dinobot fell silent for a while and looked up at the listening Maximals.  
"And he did."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The robot that had shot his hand off at his commander's request entered the Predacon base with an inert, black and yellow body on his shoulders. He was whistling quietly, but stopped the moment he was within hearing range of the rest of the crew.  
He headed for the control room. The doors weren't operating, and he had to wrench them open. Then he stepped aside and kept them open for Tarantulas and Scorponok, who were carrying a charred pod. He didn't notice the odd looks they gave him, because he was scanning the room for Megatron. Ah, there he was.

"Brought her, sir," he reported, adjusting the weight on his shoulders.  
Megatron glanced at him. "Excellent. Any particular reason she's off-line?"  
Rust smiled widely. "She didn't want to be brought."  
"I see. You know were the CR-tanks are." The young bot nodded and headed there.

He was dumping the she-spider in the tank, when the platform in the other one rose.  
"Hey, how's the head?"  
"Frag off!"  
Rust chuckled. "Just asking! Sheesh, you're touchy!"  
&&&&

They spent the rest of the night in the communication room, where something had exploded, removing the scrap and repairing what was repairable. Well, actually, Megatron, Tarantulas, and Scorponok were doing the repairs, Waspinator was sent outside as a sentry, and Terrorsaur was assigned to scrap removal, but Rust was helping him.  
What? He liked carrying heavy things!

At dawn Megatron dismissed his troops for half a mega-cycle, mentioning that Rust might consider himself off-duty for the time being. Cool.  
He headed towards his quarters.

Hmmm. Footsteps behind him. Two bots or more? Turning the corner he slowed down enough to glance at the outlines reflected in the wall. Terrorsaur and Tarantulas? And what did they may want? Well, let's wait and see...

Nothing much, he realized, as he opened the door. Just to have some free laughs. Rust put his hand on the upper frame and looked at his room thoughtfully.  
The door. The wall around the door. The other wall. Some flooring. And...

"Nice view you got there," sputtered Terrorsaur between laughs. Tarantulas just chuckled.

Ah, figures. Be a nice guy for a nano, and they start to think you're at the bottom of the hierarchy chain. He would have thought he'd left strong enough impression when they first met...  
But the view _was_ nice. He liked the way lava lighted the space. He wondered briefly what had exploded here. One of the engines, maybe? He leaned forward to look at the boiling pit two decks down. Hmmm, maybe he _could_ stay here... He tested the remaining floor, and some of it crumbled under his foot. Nope. Pity.

Oh well. He decided to attend to the newest problem. He had to remind his teammates that he was NOT to be messed with. Which one would serve as an example? Tarantulas? Hmm, nope. He'd given him the Megs-checker, _and_was what Rust privately classified as a dark star - not a good type to have a quarrel with. So it would be Terrorsaur. Tough luck you got, bot.

"Where's all my stuff?" he asked, ripping two chunks of synt-foam from isolation layer around the door.  
"Huh?"  
With a wide smile, Rust put his arm around the red bot's shoulders and pulled him close.  
"See those clamps on the wall? There were six small containers secured there. The clamps are intact, the boxes are gone. Where are they?"  
Terrorsaur snorted. "How should I know?"  
Aw, wrong answer, bot!

From Rust's point of view, it went like this:

- If I slam him face-first to the wall...  
- and if I shove synt-foam up his jets...  
- and if I push him through the door...  
- and if I catch his leg just before he falls...  
...then maybe he'll get a bit more cooperative.

For Terrorsaur it was like:

Smile.  
/slam/  
"Oooph!"  
/whooosh/  
"HELP!"

and then  
"Let me down!"  
Rust smiled again. "Are you sure?" and Terrorsaur realized his mistake. "NO!"  
"So where's all my stuff?"  
"I donno!"  
"Aww, that's too bad..." his grip loosened a little.  
"Tarantulas, help me!"

Tarantulas had backed away to a safe distance the moment the attack started, and was now watching the two bots thoughtfully.  
"I think I saw Waspinator buzzing around here," he said almost absentmindedly.  
Rust grinned and in one fluid movement pulled the red bot into the corridor, turned him the right way up and put him on his feet.  
"Thank you," he said cheerfully, patting his head. Then he fell on four paws and trotted away, leaving them behind.  
"Slaggin' psycho..." Terrorsaur muttered when he was sure Rust wouldn't hear him. "What did he put in my jets? Help me with it!"  
Tarantulas was so deep in thoughts that he actually did help, against all Predacon protocols.  
He was thinking of Rust.

That kid - and he wouldn't call him that aloud, oh no - was his big failure.

He hadn't known about him.  
That was almost scary.  
He hadn't known Megatron hired that one more bot.  
He hadn't known that this bot even existed.

And when he tried to find any info on him when they went into hiding, his computer gave him nothing. He tried the name, the appearance, the energy signature, even the fighter's data, and it all resulted with a short notice about the theft over a stellar cycle ago. But Rust didn't exist in computer data banks anywhere.

And then he approached him with that infernal smile on his face, and asked if Tarantulas, by any chance, possessed a small tracking scanner, with such and such qualities...  
And Tarantulas had a hard time controlling himself, because such scanners were one of latest, top secret devices used by high PSP officers and assassins, and no civilian was supposed to know about them.  
And that could mean...  
...that saying 'no' would be a very bad idea.

So he gave Rust the scanner, along with detailed instruction how to install it, both in him and in the target, and when the visitor finally left his lab, he sent a very carefully arranged question to the headquarters...  
...and realized he'd made a mistake where their answer was, basically, 'Huh?'.

But now he was thinking about that again, because the way Rust demanded information was a basic procedure for field PSP officer. Of course it was also something any average thug would do... but still, he had something to think about.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waspinator's door was locked. Rusted examined the lock briefly, then kicked it. Yep, he was right, a very fragile thing...  
He entered and found his containers right away. They were sitting on a shelf just across the room. Locks intact, contents untouched. Rust frowned. What's the point in taking them, then? He examined the room, full of garbage... Then he took a step back and examined it again, moving his thoughts to a different track.

The way the colorful thingies were scattered across the room.  
The way six boxes were arranged, as if on display.

He stifled a laugher. Apparently Waspinator dragged the boxes here, because he liked the colorful holo-stickers they were covered with. Well, Rust liked them too. He was the one who put them there, after all.

Hmmm. The wasp's room was originally rookies' quarters, and was smaller than the crew's rooms the others occupied. Smaller, but with two bunks. It never stopped to amaze Rust that the more bots were supposed to fit in a room, the smaller its capacity was. There must have been some conspiracy behind this.

"What doggy-bot doing here?!"  
Rust let his smile cover half his face, and turned.  
"The name's Rust. And I live here. Why?"  
Waspinator gaped at him, stunned.  
"This Waspinator's room," he buzzed finally.

Rust tapped one of the boxes. "My stuff is here, I'm staying here. I'm not going to rupture myself dragging this to other room. You may stay or go, your choice."  
_But stay. I like having company_.  
"Doggy-bot can't just move in!"  
"Rust. And watch me."

Waspinator was torn. He hated having roommates. They were always laughing at the way he spoke, and they were trashing his belongings, and always made him sleep on the upper bed and laughed even more when he kept banging his head on the ceiling. But on the other hand, if he retreated and picked another room, he would never hear the end of it.

He thought briefly about complaining to Megatron, and cringed.  
No, he'd rather stay and suffer Rust's presence.

He circled around the bigger bot carefully and started to climb on the bed. Something gray blurred past him and lots of teeth snapped in front of his face.  
"Upper bunk's mine. Get lost."

He fell to the floor and stared up in surprise. The wolf-bot wanted to recharge up there?  
"Why doggy-bot--  
The wolf landed on top of him.

"RUST!" he yelled, and growled.  
Waspinator yelled as well, and shielded his face with one arm, the other searching desperately for a weapon...  
The jaws full of spiky teeth drew back suddenly.

"I forgot about my backpack. Be right back." And the wolf trotted out, as if the event never occurred.

Waspinator scrambled to his feet and sat on his bed, looking after him. He didn't understand this bot, and he didn't like that. Dealing with people who did strange things tended to end in the CR-tank, in his experience. He sighed. Why did his life have to be so complicated?

By the time Rust found his backpack and returned, Waspinator was fast asleep. The wolf bot left the container in a corner and jumped onto his bunk silently. He was tired, but it would be five or eight cycles before he slept. What to do with eight cycles?  
_Something I missed very much in the wild_.  
He closed his optics and concentrated on his spark. He hated doing it at home (_ha!_), because most sparks there were identical to his, but here... He focused... and six distant stars appeared in the darkness. The youngest and closest - Waspinator. The two that seemed oldest... he momentarily switched to his scanner and back - _this_ one's Megs, so _that_ must be sarge. The gleam in the direction where the communication room was - Terrorsaur on monitor duty. Moving from CR-tanks area - must be Blackarachnia. Awfully mature for a newborn, but of course she had to be at least fifty to be in the Axalon's crew. Maximals didn't employ underage bots. And the dark star outside the base - Tarantulas.  
Having them all identified, Rust let go of his extra senses, and recharged.

End part two  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Chapter edited on 28.02.2008)

1) ROTFL - roll on the floor laughing. But you knew that, of course


	3. Rat in trouble

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here.

**Dedication**: I dedicate this chapter to Lady Dementia, 'cause I admire her works, 'cause I can, and 'cause I want to. Questions? :-)

**A/N**: I hope you enjoy it. And if you do - _please_ review! (If you don't - review and tell me why not).

**Spoilers**: "A better mouse trap". I should probably mention that when I say 'spoilers', I actually mean 'you should have seen the episode to fully appreciate the story'.

-

Mission: To save Beast Warriors

Part Three  
**Rat in Trouble**

_When security systems go haywire, and there's something strange lurking in the jungle, it's a bad time to be a rat. And we're all gonna die._

_-_

_-_

_- _

Rust opened one optic and yawned. He felt lazy. Scorponok had just informed him through the comlink that he had half a mega-cycle before his shift on monitor duty began. Too short a time to go out and wander, too long to just lie around and do nothing. He took out his EK-box and inspected the tools. Some needed sharpening. He was about to do just that, when Waspinator came in.  
"What Doggy-bot doing?" he buzzed.  
Rust growled. That does it!

He carefully closed the box and subspaced it, then lunged. Waspinator only had time to scream once before the bigger bot knocked him over, sat on his chest and punched him hard in a place that seemed about right.  
It was. Two halves of a helmet swooshed to the sides, revealing Waspinator's face, young and frightened.

"Rust," he growled, leaning over the wasp bot, left fist raised threateningly. "Not doggy-bot, not crazy-head. Rust."  
The green optics stared up at him in terror.  
"Say it!"  
"R-r-r-rust," the small bot stammered. His face was practically radiating fear.  
Rust cursed inwardly. He really hated himself right now. But once you started...  
"One 'R' only. Rust".  
"Rust," Waspinator whispered meekly. He wasn't usually so easily scared, but there was something in those burning, blue optics that paralyzed him. If he could only turn his gaze away from them, maybe he could fight back...

"Good. Now say: 'What are you doing, Rust'. NOW!"  
"W-what Rust doing?" and he cringed as his audios registered what his mouth said.  
Rust's optics narrowed for a nano, then he smiled.  
"Good enough." He jumped to his feet and pulled the smaller bot up. "Just remember what my name is, and you'll have no troubles with me."

As soon as he was free, Waspinator raised his hands and shut his helmet closed.  
Rust turned to hide a smile.  
_Wise. Your face is way too expressive to show it to all the bad guys around.  
_Then he realized something. When his helmet was off, Waspinator's voice was different. Higher pitched and with no trace of buzzing. Just a normal voice of a young bot. There must have been some device installed in the helmet that altered it.  
_Pretending to be older, are you? I wonder how young you really are_...  
But he didn't ask. If the kid had chosen to disguise himself, it was his private thing.

OoOoO

One of the screens flickered and went offline. Megatron looked at it across the bridge, from where he was searching the archives, and growled. The equipment was falling to pieces; it required constant repairing and maintaining. If they didn't repair every fault immediately, they would soon be out of working machinery. But he and Tarantulas were busy searching data for their newest project, Scorponok had holed up in his lab, muttering shyly about a behavior changing viral again, and Blackarachnia, still annoyed about her forced enlisting, declared she'd show them how the wars are won and disappeared in a hold somewhere. But then again, a bot doesn't have to be an engineer to repair a simple screen. Megatron hit his comlink. "Rust!"

OoOoO

Waspinator shut his helmet. How did that crazy wolf know about it? He glared at Rust hatefully. He turned his back as if Waspinator wasn't there.  
_I'm fed up with being a punching bag! I'm fed up with being ignored! _  
He very slowly reached for his weapon.  
"The last bot that tried to shoot me in the back spent a whole week in a CR-tank," Rust said without turning. Waspinator's hand jumped away. "  
_How does he know? _  
Before he could wonder, there was a beep.  
**Rust! Report to the bridge**  
"Coming, sir."  
And he went. But he turned in the door.  
"Wasp..."  
"What?" Waspinator snapped defiantly.  
"Next time someone pins you to the ground and is stupid enough to lean over you, use those optic lasers of yours and melt his slaggin' head to the Pit."  
The door closed. Waspinator stared at them in amazement.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"With two new Predacons, we might be forced to leave the base unmanned sometimes, so I need you to make it impregnable," Optimus had said after Rattrap's Big Day, and Rhinox was working on it since then. It was quite a pleasant task, since their armory was full, and he only had to decide where to place each component and how to connect it to the system. Now he was almost finished; Sentinel only needed the last few lines of programming, and--

"What kind of defense grid is that?" Dinobot snarled in disgust. "These toys will not stop a Predacon in battle mode!"  
Rhinox frowned, but beside that he didn't acknowledged the remark. He didn't have to, Rattrap was present. The green bot was probably the only Maximal in the entire universe who appreciated the rat-bot's big mouth, because it was never turned against him, and he could work in peace while Rattrap was talking the intruder to death. He concentrated on the codes, barely aware of an argument in progress.  
"... Lethal threats demand lethal response!"  
"Yeah, lethal, right, like that Big Bad Rust ya were tryin' to scare us with. How come he never showed up, huh?..."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Big Bad Rust sneezed, creating a small cloud of dust. He was currently in disfavor. Just because he'd blacked out the entire base for a few mega-cycles. It's not like it was his fault! He'd _told_ Megatron this was likely to happen, but would he listen? Noo, repair the screen, that's an order, Rust! And then he goes postal because of some lost data.  
And as a result, Rust was first used as a stress-relieving target, and then sent away to salvage some parts for Tarantulas. With Terrorsaur as a company. The red bot wasn't too happy.

And Rust was bored. It was a state he rarely experienced while on the move, but now he couldn't vary his run with any turns or jumps, because his movements were limited by his backpack and a sledge attached to it. The latter was his private idea, and he was rather proud of it.

He'd dragged one of floaters to Scorponok, and asked very politely (and he really didn't know why the scientist was so nervous. Really. Big blaster? What big blaster? Oh, this one? Nah, I'm only waving it to emphasize that I'm in a hurry, what with Megs on my heels and all...) to modify it a bit and weld some boards to it, converting it to a kind of pack sledge.

It would be useful when they reached their destination, but for now it was a hindrance. Hmm, maybe it would be more interesting if it were weighted? Or... Oh, here's a thought!  
"Oy, Terror!" he bellowed to the skies. Then he sighed and activated his comlink. "Terror!"  
**What?**  
"Come down here."  
**Why?**  
"Cause I'm asking you."  
**Go slag yourself.**  
"Don't make me shoot you down."  
That got a reaction.  
That crazy wolf had proved to be an excellent gunner in aerial fights, and Terrorsaur didn't want to find out if he was as handy with a blaster. He landed at a safe distance and shot Rust a hostile glance.  
"What?"  
The wolf grinned and motioned his head towards the sledge.  
"Hop on"  
"What?"  
"You heard me. There's no point in both of us getting tired, is there?"  
Terrorsaur blinked. What was that fur-ball playing at? There was no way he was just offering a ride out of the goodness of his spark. But on the other wing, what mischief could he have planned? It was just a floater... unless he'd installed a shocker or something in it.  
Rust scratched the sand impatiently.  
"Well, move your leathery skid-plate in there and let's go!"  
His dislike for effort finally won over his suspiciousness, and the flyer flopped to the floater.  
"You're in there?"  
"Yea..."  
"Then hold on."  
His contemptuous sputter turned into a screech, as Rust shot forward at highest speed.

* * *

Rhinox had called it 'Sentinel' for a reason. It was supposed to detect and neutralize each and any threats to the ship. Unfortunately, due to a rather unpredicted chain of events, involving Rattrap's sense of humor and Dinobot's temper, its main control console had been stabbed to death, and having no access to the 'friend or foe' files, Sentinel focused on neutralizing the only person still onboard.

"Oh, gimme a break!" Rattrap moaned, rolling out of the line of fire. It wasn't funny anymore! How did he ever end up in this situation?  
_I've chosen a really bad moment to become responsible! _  
He scrambled madly up the ladder.  
"I should of stayed at Cybertron! Pit, I should of stayed back on Vespa3! Next time anyone asks me if I wanna interestin' job, I'll just turn and run!"  
The hatch he reached was locked. He didn't waste time for pleasantries.  
_/BLAM/  
_...and the corridor entrance was open.  
--_Intruder, you are required to stand down_--  
"Shove it up yer--"  
Three disruptive guns appeared up above.  
Rattrap squeaked, turned, and ran.

OoOoO

Outside the base, Cheetor stifled a sigh. It felt weird to fire on his own base, even if the firepower wasn't doing any damage to it, but it was even worse when Rhinox's order stopped the assault, for it left Cheetor with nothing to do. He fidgeted anxiously, sharing his attention between his two present teammates and the greenish blob engulfing Axalon. As usual, he'd arrived at the scene in the middle of trouble, and no-one would tell him what happened. He wished that Optimus would come back from investigating the Predacon activity the teen-bot, Dinobot shifted, sharing his attention between Axalon and the rest of the world. It would be the worst moment for the 'Predacon activity' to show up at their doorstep. The vulnerability of their situation put all his senses on edge.

Rhinox frowned, glaring solely at Axalon. His shield had proved to be just as resistant as he'd intended it to be. If the rest of the system was as efficient...  
The fact that Rattrap had survived in the Pred's base wasn't at all comforting. Megatron's defensive system wasn't anywhere near as good as his.  
_**  
**__--Warning, energon surge-- _Came a collective diagnostic warning.  
Rhinox absentmindedly converted more power to dumpers, while the others beastmoded. He activated his comlink again, establishing constant link to Rattrap, then tried to modify the signal so that it would cut through the jamming field. If he could contact Rattrap, he could tell him what exactly he should do. AND he would know if small bot was all right.  
There were many friends he'd lost to a 'friendly fire'. He didn't want a repetition.

* * *

Waspinator burst into the hidden cave like a 'Con out of Chaar.

"Optimuzz Primal izz coming!" he buzzed in alarm, speeding towards two Predacons. He was wrong in this regard, since Optimus has returned to Axalon, leaving the chase to Tigatron, but of course the distressed wasp couldn't know that. He simply relayed what he knew.

Scorponok put the laser drill down and looked at Waspinator with exasperation. The tunnel seemed so secure just a moment ago!  
"What did you do now?"  
"Waspinator not do anything! Optimuzz made ambush!"  
Blackarachnia snorted impatiently, pushing Scorponok aside and fitting her device-of-a-fast-victory into a hole he made. "Forget it, he'll never find us here! Besides, he is already too late," she added, punching in the activation code, "All is set up, and I only need to--"

Crouched behind one of stalagmites, Tigatron gripped his gun. Attacking three Predacons single-handedly might be considered dangerous, but he didn't see it that way. His predator side was insisting that none of the creatures was a threat to him, and he believed it more than what his logic circuits were telling him. So he ignored the logic, and gave up to the tiger. That strategy had yet to fail him. He growled and made himself known. "You three are going straight to the scrap heap!"

He would have been mortified if he knew what effect his following actions had besides sending the Predacons scattering for cover. When the sonic emitter thrust by him in the wall went off and the big part of the land caved in, no-one noticed that the tremors reached Axalon as well.

* * *

"Rhinox ol' buddy, yer freakin' paranoid" Rattrap wheezed, pressing his back to the wall, and hoping that the narrow platform above would be enough to hide him from three huge shatterfields, hovering around the Sentinel's core computer. He'd caught a glimpse of the small panel adorned with a big red button before he was forced to roll over the edge to escape the 'friendly fire'. Now all he had to do was jump, grasp the edge of the catwalk, somersault, roll, run, and slam the Pit-forsaken button before the fragging slag-makers charged to full power and evaporated him. Piece of cheese. He could do it.  
Probably.  
Maybe.  
Oh, what the Pit... With a battle cry that would make Dinobot proud, Rattrap stopped thinking a jumped.  
He almost made it. He was about three feet from the panel, when everything shook violently. He lost his footing, and a nano-klik later a part of a ceiling landed on his legs, pinning him to the floor. The shatterfields zeroed in on him, howling with the power caged in their capacitors.

* * *

The tremors reached Axalon as well, but no-one noticed, for the epicenter of the event was so much more eye-catching. It's not every day that a large piece of land bubbles up like a tar pit. The Maximals crowded at the edge of the crumbled area, sensors on high alert and weapons ready. It can be safely said that they were all relived that it was Tigatron crawling out of the rubble, as opposed to, say, five to six Predacons. It was one thing less to worry about. Rhinox carefully scanned the tiger. He was only able to get the readout of the basics, but more often than not it was enough to evaluate the bot's condition. There were no energy fluctuations, and Tigatron seemed fine, even if he move a little stiffly. Nothing more serious than some dents and bruises, Rhinox decided.  
"Um, guys?" Came Cheetor's hesitant voice from behind. "The shields went down."  
Rhinox's systems froze.

"That's a good thing, right?" Cheetor added hopefully.  
"No." Rhinox voice was so quiet they barely heard it. No, it wasn't a good thing. He'd written the safety protocols personally. In case of infiltration, the shields were to remain in place even after the intruder was neutralized. Unless manually removed, they weren't to go down as long as the intruder was still on board and...active.

* * *

The mechanical voice sounded throughout the base from the speakers.

_--Scanning for enemy signatures.--  
--No enemy signatures detected.--_

_--Sentinel standing down.--_

The cryo-field generators stopped randomly cruising the corridors. The zero-friction fluid was sucked back into the piping it came from. The laser grids were shut down, and the blasters retracted into their holders. In the computer core chamber, the shatterfields powered down and withdrew to their positions. All went completely still.

On the floor, a small bot opened one optic cautiously.  
"Heh, I ain't dead!"  
He relaxed his fingers, dropping a piece of cable he'd slashed at the button just a nano ago. Amazing, but it worked. The Friend or Foe program was on-line, and friends were safe from it. Speaking of friends...  
Rattrap wriggled from under the beam and activated his comlink to report his success. Rhinox's comlink was still open, and Rattrap heard the others before he spoke, and what he heard--  
He laughed silently.  
_Huh, I am just in time for my own funeral banquet! I wish I had a recorder! _

* * *

Somewhere in the desert two bots were enjoying themselves. Rust because he was testing his muscles and endurance, Terrorsaur because he was doing the exact opposite. Laying quite comfortably on his back, with his eyes closed, he reveled in idleness.  
"Oy, Terror!"  
"What now?"  
"How did you meet Megatron?"  
The pterodactyl opened his eyes in surprise. "What?"  
"Do you always make people repeat themselves?"  
"Huh?"  
Rust sighed.  
"Do you al--"  
Terrorsaur growled.  
"No. And I won't talk about that stinking--"  
"Warning, dactyl - if he asks me what you said about him, I'll tell him."  
A silence followed.  
Rust waited for some time, till he got too bored.  
"So how did you meet him?"  
Terrorsaur started muttering curses. The floater stopped and he hastily got to his feet, in case Rust was going to attack him. He wasn't, but he was grinning an unnerving, wolfish grin.  
"Let me put it that way, bird. I'm curious, and I'm bored. You can either tell me what I ask, or you can provide me with an entertainment of a different kind." And he grinned even wider.

Terrorsaur narrowed his eyes at the obvious threat, but then he shrugged. What the Pit, he didn't have anything else to do.  
"Ever been on Gladius?"  
Rust resumed trotting. "Sure. Great gladiators' fights, cool clubs, easy cash to make. Why?"

Pushing aside a surprise that the wolf _had_ visited the asteroid, Terrorsaur laid on his back again.  
"I lived there. Fought in the arena sometimes, more often just made bets. And one day I meet this guy in a pub - he's all smiles and free drinks and all - and he says that he saw me fighting, where did I learn that move I used, yadda yadda... And he keeps buying drinks, and then I wake up and they tell me that I've challenged that guy, with all the cash I had as a wager, and I lost. All nice and legal, cause I've signed all papers. No one gave a slag that I was drunk at the time."  
Rust chuckled. "He probably bribed the juror. But why are you working for him, then?"

"Hallo, anyone in there?"  
"Cause I've challenged him again, all right? I wanted my money back. And I had to sign a 10 stellar-cycle's service warrant to equal the wagers."  
"And you lost again."  
"Yea."  
_And the worst part is, he did that cause I was a flyer with a good aim and no place to go, and he needed someone like that to be his shield. His slaggin' cannon fodder. A scapegoat in case things went awry._  
For a Predacon, that was the worst insult.

* * *

Rattrap entered the lift and glanced back with a smug expression on his face. "Yer Sentinel Expert's leavin' da buildin', children, but if ya need him, just call 'im!"  
Dinobot growled. "It's been six solar-cycles, vermin! Would you cease your gloating already?"  
"Yer just jealous, Scale-belly, 'cause ya could never..."

Optimus sighed in relief when the lift muffled their bickering, and turned to look at Rhinox, who was watching monitors, as he did almost all the time.

"Something wrong, Rhinox?" amazing how Optimus could see his frown even if he was sitting with his back to him.  
"I'm not sure. Our scanner shows something... weird. Like a small energy disturbance. As if the scanner couldn't decide if it found something or not. And now that I think of it, it's not the first time, I just never paid it any attention before. It can't be anything natural. It changes location all the time, and disappears and appears randomly. It could be just an instrument error but--"  
"--but we can't take any chances. How long has it been out there?"

"Hmmmm..." Rhinox pondered, "at least since Rattrap's 'betrayal'... " he gave Optimus a _look_, and the Maximal leader sighed. He'd apologized for that three times already, and Rhinox could really give him a break...

"But it could have been there earlier, only there was too much interference then to notice. This signal is very faint even now. See, it disappeared again."  
"Hmmm. Well, our unhappy couple is heading that way, so I'll just let them know to keep an eye for anything unusual."  
"Unusual? What's unusual?" Cheetor arrived on the scene, and was determined to make his star shine brighter than any other. Optimus finally assigned him to 'mysterious signal hunt' just to have him off his back. When one delighted Cheetor left the Axalon, he radioed Dinobot and filled him in, asking to keep an eye on both unusual things _and_ hyperactive cheetahs.

* * *

When Cheetor found the two patrollers, they were at the stage of cutting remarks, heading fast to straightforward cutting. His arrival eased the tension somewhat, and they went on in silence, which allowed them to detect Tarantulas and Scorponok some time later. They were busy setting up some kind of machinery on a small clearing.  
"So much for our mysterious signal," Cheetor murmured, disappointed.  
Dinobot smirked. At last, something he was good at!  
At his command they scattered, (Rattrap muttering something about bossy Preds under his breath), surrounded the two scientists quietly and opened fire almost simultaneously.

OoOoO

Tarantulas cursed as the first shots smashed his scanner to ashes. Slag it, he was so absorbed he lowered his guard completely! How foolish of him!  
"Maximals! We must retreat!"  
Scorponok clicked his claw and shot a missile. "But what about--"  
"Forget it! It's not important!"  
That coming from the very person who had insisted that they _had to_ check the energy anomaly. Scorponok shook his head. That spider was so unpredictable! But retreating seemed to be a good idea. He launched a few more missiles and ran.

OoOoO

"Whoohoo! That was all too easy!"  
Rattrap threw a bomb after the fleeing scorpion.  
_/bleep/_ **They have fled, stop playing and return to base, vermin.**  
"See ya there, Chopper-boob."  
His comlink beeped the end of transmission, and Rattrap took a baseball-style swing to throw one last bomb for good riddance...  
...and he heard the swish of air...  
...and he saw the incoming missile...  
...but he had no time to do anything about it.

Dinobot snarled at the sound of explosion, but out of annoyance, not worry. The rat should learn not to waste their resources like that! He shook his head and started toward the base.

OoOoO

At a charred clearing Rattrap blinked and groaned.  
"Oooooow. Oh man. That hurt."  
He reached for comlink.  
"Rattrap to base, I need--" The comlink was trashed. "Oh great. What else?" He tried to get up. It didn't work. He beastmoded and tried again. Didn't work either.  
"Hey, ah, Chopper-face? Cheetor? Are ya here somewhere?!" He waited for an answer.  
"Oh come on, bots, I need help! Where are ya?!" He feebly scrambled to get to his feet and squeaked in pain. "Slag, I'm gonna die here, move yer skid-plates an' get me back to base!"  
He continued yelling for some time, alternating pleading with curses, until the bushes nearby rustled--  
"Oh, finally, took ya long enough..."  
--and from among them came out the very worst thing that an injured rat can see.  
A cat.

* * *

Tarantulas stopped and checked the damage reports his internal computer provided. Nothing serious, he wouldn't even need a CR-tank. But he was still angry. To let Maximals sneak up on him like that, that was unforgivable! He was a PSP officer, for Primus's sake! He should never let anything distract him to the point of being careless. And yet that was what happened. He frowned. Well, someone would pay for this, in not very distant future.  
_I wonder if the Maxis were there by accident, or were they looking for the same thing I was...  
_He looked back at Scorponok. At least that fool wasn't complaining about being ordered around. If Tarantulas heard once more that whinny 'I'm second in command', he'd blast the scorpion's head of.

"He shouldn't command me, I'm second in command," Scorponok muttered under his breath. But it was more a habit that actual protest. He knew all too well that his command only extended to the outer walls of the base. In battle, he was powerless, and, to be honest, helpless. He wasn't good at making quick decisions, and was secretly grateful when someone else was taking over. He hadn't always been like that, but... the past was the past. No point looking back.

* * *

"Oh slag, now I'm _really_ gonna die!"  
Rattrap watched the red animal anxiously. Oh man, that thing was almost as big as him! And it looked hungry too. It took a step toward him, and Rattrap's beast's instincts freaked out. "DINOBOT! CHEETOR! HELP!"  
The cat tilted its head and came closer.  
"I'm not yer snack, get lost!"  
The cat stopped and leaned forward cautiously, sniffing at him. He wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not. Was the smell of metal strong enough to discourage the feline despite his organic parts?  
The feline jumped to him, poked him and jumped back. It hit an exceptionally sore place and Rattrap screamed. "YA (#&/$) (/&$$), GET AWAY FROM ME!"  
The cat blinked, then slowly came closer. Rattrap waved his paws despite the pain, in futile attempt to shoo it away. "Will ya (&$/) off, ya ($&#&) Pit spawn?!"  
A paw extended and smacked at his belly experimentally.  
"/&$ $&$&$$&&/#$#$#/($#! Chopper-face, help! I'm gonna die and get eaten!"  
Even if the cat suffered indigestion afterwards, it wouldn't help _him_ a bit. He was badly damaged already, any more injuries, like pulled out internals for example, would result with critical energy loss, and his spark would slowly extinguish. And if he was really unlucky, he'd stay conscious till the end. He gulped at the thought.  
He struggled desperately as the claws sank into his side and the cat pulled. The combined force of both actions rolled him to his front. That meant that his most vulnerable parts were now protected, but it also meant that he couldn't see what that blasted animal was doing.  
"Go chase some birds, slaggit!" he moaned in desperation.  
He felt his attacker's front paws on his back, and whined. "Come on, please?"  
Come on, come on, it'd be too stupid to die like this...  
The weight on his back shifted, and he felt a hot breath on his neck. "Oh, slag..." he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.  
The weight shifted further.  
"You are fun," purred a voice straight into his ear.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Optimus was more than a bit worried now. Cheetor and Dinobot had returned almost simultaneously half a megacycle ago, reporting a 'successfully repulsed Predacon attack,' and Rattrap still wasn't there, and what's worse, his comlink was dead.  
"Dinobot, we're going to look for him. Cheetor, you are--" His comlink beeped, interrupting him.  
**Optimus, I've picked up Rattrap's signal, but there's something wrong with the readings--**  
"Just give me coordinates, Rhinox, we can worry about tech problems later."  
Dinobot snarled something about having priorities messed up, but followed their leader nonetheless. Cheetor ran along, carefully keeping at BigBot's side... after he was ordered not to race forward alone. They were approaching the jungle, when something emerged from the thicket. All three of them gasped.

Have you ever seen a little kitten, trying to drag a soft toy bigger than itself? It's a really cute sight, and it's a pity that the Maximals didn't see it that way. But then again, the animal in question was a fully grown cat, and the thing it dragged looked like the remains of their friend. It is allowed to overreact a bit in situations like that.  
"Vermin!" "Rattrap!" "Leave him alone, you--!" Cheetor reacted most violently, transforming and pulling out his gun in one swift move.  
"Cheetor wait! You could hit Rattrap!"  
The cat looked up at them, released its burden and sat on its hinds.  
"Why all the fuss? It's not like I'm gonna eat 'im," it said in a young, feminine voice. Rattrap opened one eye. "Take me away from 'er," he moaned.

OoOoO

Rhinox leaned over the screen and frowned at what it showed him. Rattrap's signal wasn't flickering anymore, but instead exactly the same weird energy disturbance he picked up earlier appeared near it. He shook his head and touched the button.  
"Optimus, you should be careful. There is something strange right next to you--"  
**It's OK, Rhinox, we can see her**  
"Her?"  
**We'll be back with you in few cycles. Optimus out**

OoOoO

Optimus knelt next to Rattrap, trying to pick him up as gently as possible. The yelps of protest told him he wasn't succeeding. He glared at the cat suspiciously. "What happened?"  
She didn't even blink. "Don't look at me, he was like that when I found him".  
"The Pit I was!"  
"OK, so maybe you were damaged a bit on the way. Not my fault. You're heavy."  
"I was-- OW! Watch it, Ape!"  
"Shut up, Ra--" Optimus started automatically, but then shook irritation off. "I'm sorry. What happened?"  
"I got hit by a missile, nearly died, _someone_left me behind, an' then _she_ appeared," Rattrap summarized, wincing.  
Dinobot snarled at the 'someone' comment, but stayed quiet. Somehow, the rat managed to put him to shame again. He'd been in charge for this patrol, and it was his responsibility to make sure everyone came back safely. And he failed. He'd underestimated the rat again, assumed that he was overdoing it, and didn't check if he wasn't in trouble. The raptor tapped his talons, frowning, his warrior's pride suffering.  
Optimus absorbed the info, making a mental note to talk with Dinobot later, and looked at the cat.  
"Well, thank you for bringing him here," he ignored Rattrap's sputtering and continued. "My name is Optimus Primal. I am commander of Maximals here. And who are you?"  
The cat had already stood up and started walking toward him, but now she stopped abruptly and took few steps back, suddenly wary. She glared at them suspiciously, her tail slashing the air.  
Optimus raised optic ridges in surprise. "What's wrong?"  
"Shouldn't YOU know? I was in your crew."  
He blinked at the accusatory tone. Well, of course she had to come from one of the pods, and therefore had to be part of his crew, but...  
"Yes, I suppose, but your beast mode originates from Earth, and stasis pods often change voice and appearance."_That's what happened to Tigatron and Blackarachnia_, he thought. _None of them look like any bot that signed the Axalon's contracts_...

The cat didn't fully understand what had been said, but the tone of voice was enough to calm her down. "Oh," she said and sat down, tail wrapped neatly around her, to think it over. "Not Kitten, then," she murmured to herself. She stared at the ground for a moment, then looked up. "Kittar", she stated.  
"Oh, how _highly_ imaginative-- OW!"  
The meaning of word "imaginative" was mystery to her, but she recognized sarcasm and chose to ignore it. "Easy to remember, though" she purred, much to Rattrap's annoyance. "And what's your name?"  
Rattrap gritted his teeth and pretended to be deaf.  
_NOW she asks me. NOW she talks_.  
"He's Rattrap. And I'm Cheetor. And this is Dinobot, and there is Rhinox back at the base..."

The teen-bot was all to eager to pass any information he could. It didn't discourage him one bit that Kittar only nodded acknowledgement. Her attention was divided between young bot's babbling, and very complicated argument going on between the other three males. As far as she understood, it was about letting her on the ship, the males' state of mind, their appearance and lineage and what they thought of that. She finally considered it too confusing and diverted her attention back at Cheetor. By the time they reached Axalon she knew almost everything there was to know about it's crew. But there were still some surprises left, as she soon discovered.

It puzzled her when Optimus stepped onto a piece of metal and looked toward her expectantly. "Well, come on" he said after a moment, when she didn't react.  
"Go on, injured and ladies first!" Cheetor encouraged her jokingly. She walked closer hesitantly, not sure what was expected from her. She sniffed at the metal suspiciously before stepping on it, and then hissed wildly and got ready to fight as it _moved_. The bigger bot obviously noticed her nervousness, because his voice was set at 'it's-all-right' tone when he spoke. "It's just a lift".  
Humph. Whatever _that_ was.

She forced herself to relax. She also refused to flinch when something really big moved nearby, opening something big and hollow. She was warned about him, after all. And the hollow thing looked familiar... Kittar tilted her head thoughtfully.  
"This is--" Optimus started to explain, but she interrupted him. "CR. I remember CRs." She dashed past surprised Rhinox and whirled inside the machine, inspecting it. "This one's pretty old, though" she concluded with a hint of disappointment in her voice.  
"Er, Kittar... Do you mind?" "Hmm? Oh." She jumped out of CR and on the round table in two moves. "Here you go"  
"I demand 'nother CR-Chamber, who knows where she's been!"  
"Shut up, Rattrap..."

Kittar smirked and watched as the rat was put into CR despite his protests, then shifted her gaze at the thing... lift... when it brought up the young bot, Cheetor, and the big lizard, Dinobot. She found the sight rather peculiar. Who would have thought there was such a long way between a head and feet... She smiled. Then her smile faded. She didn't like the way Dinobot was looking at her. She wasn't sure if she should file him under 'rival predator' or rather 'superior predator'. She certainly wouldn't like the latter...

And suddenly she yawned. And then again. Gee, was she tired...  
"Sweet dreams!" Cheetor joked. She nodded at him, mumbled "Thanks", curled up and fell asleep. She was dimly aware they were trying to talk to her, but she ignored that. She wanted to rest and resting was what she was going to do. Whatever they wanted could wait.

* * *

Rust was laying on the sand, under the merciless sun. His sides ached terribly, and Terrorsaur was still tormenting him.  
"Stop that!"  
"...and though it's hard to belieeeeeeeve!..."  
The wolf burst into helpless chuckles.  
It wasn't that the song was one of the dirtiest he'd ever heard.  
It wasn't that one stanza was about various things that could happen on a dog sledge race, which fitted the situation nicely.  
No. It was that whatever crimes that song might have committed in the past, it certainly never deserved the things Terrorsaur's voice was doing with it.

Terrorsaur was having fun. Singing was his tested and trusted way of annoying the slag out of anybody. He'd used it to get to Rust, and was quite surprised when, instead of shouting to shut the slag up!, the wolf went into a laughing fit, but that was even better. He couldn't hurt him, when he was rolling in the dirt.  
The pterodactyl continued singing, deliberately going as far off key as he could.  
Rust continued laughing.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot growled. It's been almost four mega-cycles since Optimus had let that cat into their base, and they still didn't know anything about her. Couldn't Optimus see the whole thing reeked of a Predacon trap? He wouldn't be surprised if the damn animal blew up suddenly. It wouldn't be beyond Tarantulas's skills to build an animal-like walking bomb. But would Primal listen? Nooo. 'Let's let her sleep' indeed! He glared daggers at the ball of red fur sited on the command desk, and as if in response, it finally stirred.

Kittar decided she'd slept enough. She arched her back and stretched, making sure every single muscle in her body was in place, then she sat, wrapped her tail around herself and examined her surroundings.  
Yep, everything still in here. A CR humming quietly in the background, three bots looking at... something green and shiny, and lizard-Dinobot glaring at her. With that 'not-very-friendly' look on his face.  
"She's awake" he informed his comrades, and they turned to her.  
"Whoa, welcome back, Sleeping Beauty!"  
She smiled at Cheetor. Whatever 'sleeping beauty' was, he made it sound like something nice. And she liked being treated nicely.

"Kittar..." She looked at Primal expectantly. "This is Rhinox". She nodded. She knew that already. "Cheetor already told you who we are." She nodded again and waited.  
"Now you should tell us something about yourself" demanded Dinobot, tapping his talons against the floor impatiently. Kittar tilted her head and eyed the created scratches. Definitely superior. Not good. Not good at all. And she didn't feel too comfortable in this enclosed space either. Hmmm. Maybe she could figure out how to make that lift-thing move again...

"Kittar?" it was Optimus. "Can you tell us?"  
"Yeah, like, where you came from, and how you found Rattrap" Cheetor's voice was full of enthusiasm, and at least his question made sense. Her name was Kittar, and she was a cat. What else did the other wanted her to tell 'about herself'?  
"I came from the desert," she said. They seemed to wait for more, so she jerked her head in direction that seemed about right. "Somewhere over there".  
"Well, there _is_ a desert in that direction. Was that where your pod crashed?"  
_What's a pod?_ "Maybe."  
"Hnn, what do you mean, 'maybe' ?"  
She eyed his talons again. "I don't really remember." Which was true enough...  
"Do you remember how long ago you came on-line?"  
_On-line?_ "No"  
"How did you know where to find us?" That surprised her.  
"I didn't" That surprised them.  
"So, like, how did you ever get here?"  
Ah, that was easy. "I followed the spiders"  
"WHAT?!!!" They all bellowed at the same time, they're faces showing shock and, in Dinobot's case, anger.

She flinched at the volume, and reacted to the anger. Reaction included bristling her fur and hissing in lizard's direction. Superior or not, he was going to regret if he tried anything! He apparently did, but Optimus beat her to him. His hand clasped over Dinobot's mouth, cutting off some kind of... battle scream?  
"Stand down, Dinobot!" He turned to face Kittar. "What spiders were you talking about?"  
She blinked, then let her fur fall back in place. She was confused. They didn't know what spiders were? But then why did they react so strongly to the word?  
"Those little metal thingies with legs" she explained, lifting her paw few inches above the table, to indicate how big little thingies were. "There were a lot of them" she added helpfully.  
"Do you mean those little arachnoid flash-lights?"  
_Ara-what_ "They shone at night" she confirmed. That seemed to calm everyone down. Weird. She'd have to investigate this later.

"Why did you follow them?" she decided that she liked that rumbling voice. It sounded almost like purring.  
"It was fun chasing them" she said. She meant to say more, but then changed her mind. The whole story would take _ages_. So she simply skipped to the end.  
"But then I got hungry and went off to hunt, and when I got back I couldn't find them anymore. So I just wandered around for some time. And today I heard those noises, so I went to see what it was, I didn't find it, but I heard Rattrap screaming."  
She rubbed her muzzle with her paw. "He was really loud".  
"I believe he was" Optimus said with a smile.  
"Hnn, he was most probably calling for help" Dinobot growled in disgust.  
"That too," Kittar admitted. "But mostly it was 'oh slag, I'm gonna die' ". She repeated the phrase exactly how she remembered it, intonation and all, and all Maximals suddenly burst out laughing.

Ah, that's more like it! She liked laughter! She promptly joined in.  
"He said other things too--" she started after their amusement subsided a little, but Optimus cut her off. "I think I know what it was like, Kittar, and you shouldn't repeat _that_."  
Cheetor chuckled.

"Eh, what's so funny kiddo?"  
Kittar turned her head to look at the speaker... And erupted on her feet, hissing madly, her fur standing on ends.  
"Huh? What's wrong wit' ya? Apart from being a cat?" the stranger said... in Rattrap's voice. That puzzled her enough to smooth her fur and take a step toward him. She stopped at the edge of the table, craned forward and sniffed at him gingerly. The smell was right too...  
"Why do you look so different?"  
"Huh?"  
_Huh?_ "You were a rat. Now you're a robot!"  
"Well, 'course I am a bot! I transformed!"  
She just looked at him blankly. Rattrap shrugged. "Beast mode!" Kittar jumped again. Whatever he did, it looked extremely weird. But at least he was a rat again. "Maximize!" And here was the bot. Humph. She didn't like it at all!

"You don't know how to transform, Kittar?" She glanced at Rhinox, but stayed silent. "Kittar?" She licked her paw, and then cleaned her muzzle.  
" 'allo, anybody in there?!" She snorted at him in irritation. She heard Optimus sighing. "Kittar, don't you--"  
"No". So she didn't know something. Big deal!

"How can ya be a transformer and donno know 'bout transforming, huh?"  
"Hey, I didn't even know I wasn't a cat before I first heard a Cybertronian speak!"  
"Lucky for me I was shoutin', then," Rattrap concluded bitterly. Kittar gave him an odd look, but didn't comment. He was going to say something else, but Optimus cut in.

"Kittar, you just have to say an activation code. Your name and 'maximize' for bot mode, and 'beast mode' for... well, the beast mode. In which you are now."  
She looked at Optimus doubtfully. He sighed again. -- "Beast mode" --and changed into gorilla. Kittar snorted. She didn't like the creatures, one of them roared at her in the jungle!

Cheetor didn't have to demonstrate anything to her, his name and the chest plate said it all. And Rhinox... when she looked at him from this new perspective he was quite obvious too. But that whole transforming-thing seemed too weird. Not to mention painful. Hmmm. Oh well...

"Kittar, maximize." She glanced down at herself. Nothing happened. "Not working."  
"We can see that, fur-ball. Maybe ya should try 'terrorize' instead."  
The others looked shocked.  
"RATTRAP!!!"  
And here they go again, getting upset at nothing. She chose to ignore them.  
"Kittar, terrorize." No shifting body parts. "Not working either." She looked at Rhinox, who seemed most balanced of all males. "Why did he suggest this, and why was it a bad thing?"  
" 'Terrorize' is an activation code for Predacons, and Rattrap should know better than to suggest you're one" he frowned at the rat-bot.  
"What, she sure behaves like one!"

Predacon. Sounds familiar... Where did she hear the word before? She suddenly realized Rhinox was speaking to her.  
"--some malfunction. That would explain why our scanners didn't pick you up, or rather, couldn't identify you" He motioned toward... big metal thing with lights. But the word 'scanners' stirred something in her memory. "If you don't mind, I'd like to run few tests to check what's wrong."

"Rhinox, even the lift startled her. She may find your lab a little... scary." Kittar snorted at Optimus. She wasn't startled! She was... surprised. And he didn't have to remind her of that anyway.  
"I can go with them! I'll show her how everything works!" Cheetor dropped to beast mode (Kittar winced) and hopped to the door, eagerness written all over him. Kittar jumped down from the table and followed. Behind her she heard footsteps of the rest of Maximals.

It turned out that the laboratory was quite a few corridors away. That's why, as she found out later, the Maximals moved the CRs to their command center.  
The door opened with a soft hiss, and Cheetor turned to her, explaining, "So here is--"  
"It's a Med Bay!" Kittar interrupted, her voice exited, eyes lit. "I _know_ all this stuff!" In one jump she landed on a bowl-like machine in the center of the room and sniffed at it vigorously. "It's for deep internal scans!" She jumped down and ran around the lab, sniffing at and naming everything she saw.  
"Tool rack, spark monitor, life functions monitor, emergency and normal energon feeders..." It went on and on. She finally turned to them, looking delighted. "Oh, I LIKE this place!"

Optimus and Rhinox exchanged glances. "Well, so much for scary..." Primal murmured.  
Kittar jumped on the scanner again and from there straight on Rhinox's shoulders. "So whaddya wanna do?"  
Rhinox only grunted. The rest of Maximals gasped, both at her action _and_ her accent.  
"If you'd get down, Kittar, and lay on the scanner, I could begin--"  
"Ya got it!" She jumped again, and froze in a sphinx pose in the middle of the central machine.  
The Maximals exchanged exasperated glances, and Dinobot threw his hands up in an overdramatic gesture. "Oh, marvelous!"  
The red cat blinked at him. "What?"  
"Er, Kittar, it would be better if you didn't speak like Rattrap" Optimus ventured.  
"Oh? Why?"  
"Some bots here might find that... annoying."  
"Really? Which one?"  
_Me_, Optimus thought privately. _One Rattrap is more than enough..._ Luckily, he didn't have to say anything. Twin 'Me's came from behind him. Apparently Rattrap didn't like copycats as much as Dinobot.

"Humph." Kittar rubbed her muzzle. "OK," she said reluctantly, then looked at Rhinox. "Well, go on." He nodded and pressed some buttons. The scanner went 'ping-hisss-beep-ping', and its screen lit up.  
"You can--" he started and immediately there was half a ton of cat on his shoulders. Her whiskers tickled his cheek when she craned her neck to stare at the readings. He patiently allowed her to settle. "Can you understand all this?" he asked.  
"I recognize the diagrams, but--" she rubbed her muzzle against his head "--either you've changed your alphabet, or I have _lots_ of education to catch up."  
"I don't think that is the case," he replayed in amused voice. "There are some partially damaged chips in your hard core and processor, and your comlink and transformation unit are fried. Nothing serious, CR should fix it in no time. Shall we?"  
"Sure." She had nothing against using CR. She rubbed against his head again. "Let's go."  
"Eh, ya forgot what yer legs are for?" Hmmm, her rat/robot seemed to not like her. She wondered why.

"She must be tired after carrying you, Rattrap" Rhinox rumbled, trying to walk with a new fur collar. He had to hunch his shoulders and bow his head in order to do that. He just hoped she wouldn't be too embarrassed at the memory after CR fixed her logic circuits...  
"Carryin'?! CARRYIN'?! She slaggin' dragged me! And she almost broke my neck too!"

Ah, that must be why he was upset. Well, too bad, how sad. He'd have to live with it. And with her as well. She made herself a little more comfortable and purred.

* * *

If Tarantulas was a less restrained bot, he would be cursing up a storm right now. As it was, he restrained himself to furious mutters and sputters when he saw the energy readings coming from the Maximal base. It was just so frustrating! HE was the one who found the kitten in the desert, HE was the one to discover what it was, HE was the one to lure her near! And what happened next? The kitten went straight to the Maximals! The chances that she would fall for his tricks after they were done fixing her where close to none. Such a great opportunity to experiment with posttraumatic memory fluxes wasted! Muttering angrily, the scientist turned off the screen and went to make few new arachnoids to take his mind off of things.

* * *

The CR opened, and Rattrap sputtered. "Haven't ya slept enough, fur-ball?"  
He'd been informed what happened while he was being repaired, and it did nothing to calm his temper. She'd scared him half to death, dragged him through the jungle like a sack of rusty nuts, banging him on what felt like a thousand roots, and then just slept like an innocent little angel!  
The red ball of fur uncurled and yawned. "Huh? Oh." She stepped out of the machine. "Kittar, maximize."  
It did work this time. A fem-bot of yellows and oranges appeared. What hit Rattrap most was that she was _tiny_. About three inches shorter than him, and slender.  
She looked down at herself and flexed her fingers experimentally. "Hmm. Interesting."  
Rattrap shivered. The way she pronounced the word seemed... familiar, somehow, but he couldn't quite place it. She laughed suddenly, and he tensed. If she'd dare to tell anyone...  
"What's so funny, eh?"  
"Nothing." She inspected the room, looked at the monitors, and smiled. "I _can_ read."  
Rhinox and Optimus smiled.  
"Fortunately the your datatrax were only--" Rhinox started, but she interrupted him.  
"--only inaccessible, not corrupted or damaged, and the CR has successfully rewritten them to repaired chips." She grinned, exposing two small fangs. "I know."  
"Wow, that was cool!" Cheetor was gaping at her admiringly. She grinned again, and returned to inspecting her body.  
"What's that?" Cheetor asked as she pulled out something resembling a hair-dryer with a small screen on the handle.  
"LSD," she responded, and at his blank look, pointed it in his general direction.  
_--Three life signals detected-- _  
"Oh. But what's it for?"  
Kittar wrinkled her nose. "For seeking survivors, at battlefields, accidents sites and such."  
She subspaced it and moved her left arm. A broad screen slid out of it, and rested on her forearm. Rhinox moved closer, interested. "A mobile life functions' monitor?"  
She nodded. "Yep. RT-385. Da best one there is," she stated proudly.  
"Stop talkin' like me," Rattrap growled. She flashed him a toothy grin, and raised her arm towards him in a scanning motion. Then she frowned, and tapped the screen.  
"Hmm, malfunction?"  
Rhinox glanced at it as well, but everything seemed all right to him. "Why?"  
"It says: all systems normal. Can't be right."  
Cheetor chuckled, and even Optimus had trouble hiding a smirk. Rattrap fumed silently.  
_If she doesn't get off my back in one nano, I'm gonna_--

The help came from unexpected source. Dinobot was watching the scene silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Any other day he'd probably join in on a group Rattrap-teasing, but today, he felt, he'd done enough. After all the rat had been through lately, he deserved some respect. So he decided to change the subject, and snarled to get attention.  
"Don't you have any weapons, cat?"  
Amber optics looked up at him. "Weapons? What for?"  
"Hnn, We are at war here, cat!"

Kittar blinked. A war? Well, OK... She opened both writs compartments and looked considerately at eighteen blades, sharp enough to be used as scalpels, concealed in them. Hmm... If she clenched her fist like that, with fingers positioned like that...  
Three daggers swished out from between her knuckles. She poked at the air experimentally (Cheetor and Rhinox took a cautious step back), then pushed two blades back into her arm, turned to Dinobot and made a throwing gesture.  
_/zzzzip/_  
The dagger buried itself halfway in the small spot on the wall, about five inches from warrior's face. He snarled, pulled the blade out with minimal effort and tossed it back to the small femme. She caught it out of the air, looking at him with respect. He hadn't even flinched, and was strong. Maybe a phrase 'superior predator' wasn't misplaced after all.  
_I wonder how good he is at hunting_.  
"So, whom we are at war with?" she inquired, hiding the dagger.

There was some explaining, showing her files they had on Predacons, touring the base, giving her a room of her own (opposite to Cheetor's, far away from Rattrap's, he made sure of it), and she finally tired of all those bots around.  
"I want to go out now," she said, heading to the lift. She laughed quietly, activating it.  
Optimus shook his head lightly. "You shouldn't go out alone, Kittar, you don't know the area and--"  
"I want to go out," she repeated patiently, stepping on the platform.  
"I'll go with her!" Cheetor volunteered, and hopped to join her.  
"Eh... All right, but don't go beyond scanner range."  
"You got it, BigBot!"  
When the two cats disappeared, Optimus turned to Dinobot.

"Dinobot, we need to talk." The warrior snarled, not thrilled, but nodded and followed him off the bridge.

Rattrap watched on monitors as Kittar and Cheetor started racing, and muttered something under his breath.  
"Something wrong, Rattrap?"  
"Da nastiest an' ugliest femme I've ever met, an she has ta be in my team," he repeated, audibly this time.  
"Rattrap! Even if she was clumsy, she was only trying to help you."  
"Yea, well, she could of said so, she could of said anything, _**before**_ I'd made a total fool of myself."  
He wouldn't tell that to anyone else, but this was Rhinox. The only bot who ever treated him seriously.  
"Do ya know what's it like, ta lie wounded in da jungle an' see somethin' like this approaching ya?" he gestured to the monitors angrily.  
"Hmm, I guess it's similar to what you feel when you lie wounded on a battlefield, and hear someone approaching without knowing what insignia they wear."  
There was a brief silence, then Rattrap smiled.

"I'm overreactin', aren't I."

"Maybe a bit," Rhinox smiled. "And why do you say she's ugly?"  
"Well, ya can't say she's pretty, can ya."  
Rhinox made a neutral gesture. He didn't really think of it. After all, outer shells didn't really matter.

* * *

"I won!" Cheetor was panting heavily, but was delighted. Finally he had a company for some serious racing. He'd won, but barely. Kittar sat on the sand nearby and rubbed her muzzle, frowning slightly. Then she suddenly jumped to him, slashed at his side and jumped back.  
"Hey! What was that for?"  
Hmm, what for indeed?  
"Nothing."  
"You're angry I won?"  
She tilted her head, and thought it over. "Maybe. Yes, I think that's it." She frowned. "Do you think that's normal?"  
Cheetor was watching her, half bewildered, half amused. "I donno. Do you always react like that?"  
She looked at him blankly. "Always? It's the first time I've lost."  
"With me, but on Cybertron? Or wherever you come from?"  
She gave him an odd look. "I came from the desert. I've told you that." "Yea, but... you don't remember what was before? I thought CR fixed your memory! You remembered about your monitor and that it was the best..." he was worried now. "You _do_ remember that, right?"

"Sure. I can even tell you why it is the best," she brightened up, as she started saying... things.  
"Whoa, wait, I can't even understand half the words you're using!"  
She looked disappointed. "You don't?"  
"Jumping gyros, I think only Rhinox would! How can you remember all that and nothing about yourself?"  
"Hmmm..." Kittar stared at the ground, making thoughtful faces, which made Cheetor laugh.  
"The pod." She said finally. "There is something about the pod that explains that, I'm mechy(1) sure, but I can't remember. I'll have to check if you have some data on it in your computer."  
She jumped to her feet. "Come on, let's race back!"  
"You don't have to tell me twice!"

* * *

Rattrap stretched and shut down the computer. He'd said out loud what was bugging him, beat the computer at poker, and now he was in a much better mood.  
"Well, goin' to get some recharge, see ya late--"  
The lift's door opened behind him, and he found himself lying on his front, with something heavy on his back.  
"I'm back. Missed me?" purred a voice straight into his audio.

---

End of part three

---

Chapter edited on 28.02.2008

1) mechy - equivalent of "bloody"


	4. A bee, a cat, and a lab

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here.

**Dedication**: THANK YOU, Maximus Wheeljack and Lady Starscream, this chapter is for you :)))  
As for the rest of you... /blows a raspberry at people who read but don't review/ May your own stories remain unreviewed as well. (I will lift that curse if you see the errors of your ways) ;)

**A/N:** There were some things that bothered me in the episode 'Guerrilla Warfare'- what made Optimus suddenly remember that they were explorers, how did Dinobot guess what the virus was supposed to be, and most of all, how come Megatron survived to see another episode? Come on, he and Scorponok had a bomb explode in their faces, and the only other Predacons still standing were Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia. Do you really see them dragging their "dear" leader to the CR tank? 'Cause I don't.  
**Spoilers:**'Guerrilla Warfare'

-

Mission: To save Beast Warriors

Part four  
**A bee, a cat and a lab**

_Salvaging, hunting, and unconventional weapons. A typical day in Beast Wars. Enjoy!_

_-_

-

_Salvaging_.

Rust tilted his head and regarded a piece of twisted metal with disbelieve. "It can't be this, can it?" Behind his back Terrorsaur snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised. It's just like Tarantulas to send us on a wild scrap chase." He flopped to the air, caught the hot wind under his wings and shot up almost effortlessly. His comlink beeped.  
**Nice trick, flyer.**  
If he didn't know better, he might think there was a note of admiration in wolf's voice. He looked around, and screeched. "This scrap is scattered all over the place! It will take us solar-cycles to sort through all this!"  
**So? You're not missing Megs, are you? We have energon, no one will shoot us and no one will yell at us. What more do you want?**  
"To get rid of that slaggin' sand grinding my gears, and to get out of this sun and to be away from your pestering!"  
His comlink sputtered with Rust's laughter. **You do realize you will have to land sooner or later, and I'll still be here, don't you?**  
The pterodactyl muttered something unrepeatable. Eight solars with easily bored and nosy wolf, who tended to turn aggressive when not kept amused had totally wrecked his nerves.  
**Oy, bird! Now that we have something to do, I will let you stay silent, so you have one out of three, and after the sunset, it will be two out of three. Ain't that nice?**  
"Have I mentioned how much I hate you?"  
**No, today you didn't.**  
"I hate you."  
**Aw, poor negatively-minded dactyl. All right, tell me where the nearest most promising heap of scrap is, and let's get it started.**

* * *

A rhino roaming tropical plains is nothing special. A rhino chatting with a direct protoplast of Abyssinian cats curled on it's back is, on the other hand, rather unusual. Unless, of course, one knows that animals in question are, in fact, robots in disguise. Then the chatting makes sense.  
Actually, they weren't exactly chatting, it was more like a scholarly dispute. The day before Kittar had raised the subject of possibility of using chemicals extracted from native plant life to enhance healing process of their beast modes, and since it didn't occur to anyone earlier, she and Rhinox ended up in a jungle, scanning and gathering samples. Now they were going back to Axalon, discussing some of more promising finds. The reason why the cat was getting a lift was that she'd declared she was tired, and Rhinox, having a van as an alt-mode prior to landing on this planet, was used to carrying things.  
Kittar opened her eyes and scowled when they entered the shadow of Axalon (who stole the sun?), but brightened up immediately, hopped off rhino's back and darted forward cheerfully. Rhinox saw what was coming. "Kittar, don't--!"  
_/THUMP/_  
"I'm back! Missed me?"  
"NO! Get offa me!" Rattrap scrambled to his feet, dusting off his front. "I didn't miss ya, I don't miss ya, an' I'll never miss ya so quit askin'!"  
Rhinox maximized for the sole purpose of putting hands on his hips and staring down at her sternly. "Kittar, why do you keep doing that?"  
She grinned at him and purred, very pleased with herself.  
" 'Rrrrr' is not and answer, and you know that."  
She purred even louder.  
"Ah, don't waste yer time, Big Green, can't ya see this thing is dumb as a plank? HEY!"  
The exclamation was caused by a set of claws swishing dangerously close to his face. Rattrap jumped back, grumbled under his breath and walked away. He hadn't yet developed a strategy to deal with someone who went from content purring to furious slashing with no stage in between. Even Dinobot was easier to handle, and he was a Pred, slaggit! Where was he anyway? Rattrap set off in a search of a person_he_ could annoy.  
OoOoO

"I must ask you to stop pestering Rattrap, Kittar." The cat glanced at Optimus from her place on a round table. She didn't like the demand, so she ignored it, hoping it would go away. It did, if only because Optimus had more to say. He fitted her in their duty schedule and was reading it to her, explaining patrol routs and other details, when he noticed that her tail was twitching. "Something wrong?"  
"Yes." And without further explanation, she jumped down the open lift shaft and ran away.

OoOoO

To say that Rattrap wasn't too happy would be a big understatement. "Find Kittar an' try ta brin' her back, he says. An' how should I do that, huh? An' why me? Was it my idea to brin' a cat onboard? I don't think so. She can run an' never come back for all I care, I'd be happy if she did that..." He continued muttering until he found his least favorite teammate. She was pacing back and forth in ravines not far from Axalon. Rattrap looked at her frowning. "Well? What's wrong wit' ya this time?"  
She responded never stopping her pacing. "I hate it. I know it's stupid, I know it's unreasonable, I can't help it, I hate it."  
"Hate what?"  
"Taking orders." She finally sat down and looked at him. "I know I should, but it goes against every single instinct I have."  
Rattrap put fists on his hips. "Well, ya better get used to it, sista', cause we 'ave a war here, even if miniature one, an I don' wanna get scrapped just 'cause of yer whims, ya know?"  
"I know!" She snorted in irritation, and stared at him for a while. "All right, I know what I'll do. Come on." And she trotted back to base.  
Rattrap blinked. "Well, ah, that was easy..."

OoOoO

**Yo, Fearless Leader, da fur-ball is goin' back.**  
"Well, that was quick! How did you do this?"  
**Don't ask me, I donno nothin' of insanity.**

OoOoO

"Hi Optimus!" Kittar jumped up on a table and sat there, with tail wrapped neatly around her. "So I know what to do. I will take every order when there will be an emergency, like Pred attack or some very important operation, but other times I shall do as I please." She said (with Rattrap's accent) and beamed at him. Optimus closed his eyes for a nano and shook his head slightly.  
_Why oh why have I ever answered that emergency alert?_  
"Of course. That is your right, Kittar. Though it would be much easier if--"

_/beep/_ ** Hnn, Where are you cat? You are assigned on a patrol with me.** Dinobot's impatient voice came through the comlink.  
"Dinobot, there was--" Optimus started explaining, but Kittar's voice interrupted him. "Coming!" she called and disappeared in the lift.

Primal exchanged glances with Rhinox. "Did I miss something?"  
Rhinox spread his arms. "Maybe she feels like going on patrol."

* * *

"Anything useful?"  
"Can't you lift that thing higher?"  
Rust hissed impatiently. The broken container was huge, heavy, and unwieldy, and he barely kept it as it was. "Move your skid-plate, slaggit, even I would fit under there!"  
"Then maybe _you_ should crawl under there," Terrorsaur muttered. He peeked in the gloom and to his displeasure, he noticed a seemingly untouched long-range comm driver. That meant he had to go into a small, dark, small, unsafe, small space to get it.  
"Move it, my hands are slipping!"  
Gritting his teeth Terrorsaur rolled under the sharp edge, grabbed his target, thrust it outside and rolled back. That was the plan, anyway. Only the driver hit the container's wall, and Rust's hold on it slipped completely. With a thud of metal on sand, darkness closed around the red bot.  
_No, no, let me out, where's the light, I can't breath, where're the walls, let me out, it's crushing me, I can't breath..._

He woke up to the blue sky and a steady slapping on his face. He grunted and waved a hand to stop whoever was doing the slapping.  
"Well, finally! Next time warn me before you decide to take a nap!" Rust's face appeared in his field of vision. "Feeling like getting up yet?" He shook his head, and Rust scowled. "Fine, so lie here and scorch, you good for nothing flyer. Just don't think you can trick me into doing all the dirty work myself."  
He walked to the sledge and started rearranging pieces of equipment they'd salvaged so far. He glanced at the red motionless form lying on the sand. So... afraid of small spaces. What was it called? Closedphobia? Something like that.  
_He could have told me, slaggit. I wouldn't tell him to go under there if I knew. Stupid flyer_.  
-

* * *

"I'm hungry. Let's go kill something."  
"We have an assignment, cat. Hnn. Keep your mind on the task."  
Kittar pouted. Her main reason for coming with him was to see how good a hunter he was. But - and she brightened at the thought - she could also check his stalking abilities. And since they were suppose to find out if the Predacons came back to the area, he couldn't refuse that.

OoOoO

Dinobot was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to stalk. If he didn't know where she was, he probably wouldn't spot her. And he certainly wouldn't hear her. But she was practically defenseless. She'd replaced her LSD with one of Rattrap's blasters, but her aim was less than poor. 'I'm a short range person' she claimed with irritation, when Rattrap fell over laughing during target practice. Then she challenged the vermin for a dagger-throwing duel, and after a mega-cycle Optimus called it a draw and took the daggers away from them. None of them was too pleased... Dinobot smirked. He glanced in her direction again and it took him a while to perceive a slight movement and a speck of red fur. Not at home with weapons, _very_ good at stalking. Little use in battles, good for reconnaissance missions.

OoOoO

Hmmm. His colors were to his advantage, as well as smooth movements. But he was too loud. She'd heard his breath and rustle of leaves more than once. And his smell was too strong, he'd had to keep downwind to stay undetected. So, all in all...  
_I'm better at this_. She smiled.

* * *

_Unconventional weapons_.

A gas dissolved in a liquid well enough, the specially programmed nanites, according to his equipment, were doing their job, and the only problem was a side effect revealed in one of tests. The virus was disrupting energy flow on a subwarp level, and that meant it was potentially lethal. That was not what he was aiming at!

"Any progress, Scorponok?"  
He jumped. "Not yet, Megatron, I doing, am doing, did..." he tangled himself in tenses, for the umpth time cursing his protector. The crazy old bot had lived in a separated fleshlings' community, and was so obsessed with their culture, that he never allowed to use other than their language in the house. After few decades Scorponok's internal computer labeled unused data with his native language as unimportant and deleted it. As a result, he was a rarity: A Cybertronian for whom Cybertronish was a foreign language. He'd never caught a full grasp of grammar, and it was getting worse whenever he was nervous. Like now.  
"It not work as I want," he managed. Megatron narrowed his eyes. "And how _does_ it work?" His voice was calm, and Scorponok calmed down as well. "I think it affect behavior as I wanted. But a problem is with it, it my affect spark as well. Fatally maybe. I'm not sure." Megatron stroked his dino-hand. "Well then, if you are not sure, I suggest testing it. We do have few test subjects eager to help, don't we." He smiled evilly. "But, I think a little... upgrade may be in order. Yess"  
Scorponok groaned inwardly. Just what he was afraid of...

* * *

"I know this smell!" Kittar was sniffing at the broken scanner vigorously. "The spiders smelled like that!"  
Dinobot snarled. "Not surprising. They are Tarantulas's creations."  
"So this was Tarantulas?"  
"Correct."  
"And the other one?"  
"Scorponok."  
She sniffed around for a while, to remember the new smell. "But all traces are old. We've searched the entire area, and there was no sign of Predacons._Now_ can we go hunt something?"  
"Hnn. Go ahead, cat. I will make sure no one shoots you while you _play_."  
She hissed at him. That was not how she wanted it! Stubborn lizard! She stared at him, twitching her tail, and then turned and run away. Who cares about him anyway?

* * *

_Hunting_.

Not a single straw quivered. Not a single sound was aroused. No gust of wind brought the scent of warning to unsuspecting victim. It was a perfect trap. Except...  
She knew she'd made a mistake the nano she lunged. The antelope was simply too big for her; it screamed and bolted, with Kittar still clinging to its neck. She sank her teeth and claws deeper, but her prey only ran faster, until something big and brown hit it from the side.  
"Amateur," Dinobot snarled with contempt. Kittar hissed, then inspected the way his talons had torn through the animal's side, and rubbed her muzzle angrily.  
_He's better than me. No fair_.  
Dinobot started ripping off pieces of meat. She eyed him, then very gently put a paw on antelope's front leg. When he didn't react, she moved a bit closer. After a moment she started eating as well, and he didn't protest. Well, as long as he was sharing food she could live with him being superior.

* * *

This time, Rattrap managed to turn around in time, but regretted it immediately.  
"Missed me?"  
"EWWWW! What in da Pit ya ate? No, don't answer that." He pushed her away with disgust and got up. "I thought ya were goin' to scout, lizard-breath!" he said, glaring at Dinobot's bloody face. The raptor grinned, perfectly aware there were still chunks of meat between his teeth.  
"YUCK! yer disgustin' the pair o' ya! Go an' clean yerselves!"  
"Hnn, I dare say you could use a cleaning yourself, vermin. Your stench can be felt miles away."  
"Oh yea? Well at least I'm not a mindless carrion-eater!"  
"As if the garbage you devour were any better!"  
Kittar sat down and listened, moving her gaze from one opponent to another, like a tennis-match spectator. Finally Dinobot snarled. "I will not honor that with response, rodent. Let's go, cat."

Aww. And it was such an enjoyable show... She followed Dinobot to the cleaning facility. It was a perfectly normal bathroom, with four basins full of cleaning liquid.  
"Rhinox made sure the liquid is oxygenized, so you can breath with it," Dinobot informed her, stepping in one of the basins and sinking under the surface. She watched him, feeling her fur rising slightly. She knew perfectly well how it all worked.  
You get in the basin, the liquid starts to flow around you, and the mixture of chemicals removes and washes away everything that is not a part of you.  
The fluid was also a good coolant, one that wouldn't short-circuit bot's air intakes the way water would, and Rhinox's modification to it meant it would provide the beast mode with oxygen. So a bot could just lay back and wait to be cleaned, not worrying about anything. Nice, easy and relaxing. There was only one, itsy-bitsy problem... She stepped to the smallest basin, gingerly dipped the tip of one paw in it, and jerked it back, shaking it violently.  
Wet!  
She stared at the liquid angrily. She circled the basin and touched the surface at the other end, and jerked her paw back even faster.  
WET!  
She stood there for a moment, her fur alternately raising and falling back, and then she just bolted. Stupid cleaning!

* * *

"Ya do realize this is disgusting."  
Kittar stopped licking herself clean, looked at Rattrap thoughtfully, then she raised her paw and stretched her fingers. Five sharp claws gleamed in the sun.  
"Yea, yea, sure, kill da messenger. Lizards an' felines an' Preds. I wanna pay rise, ya hear me, boss-monkey?"  
"I'm trying not to. Have you fixed that auto-gun already?"  
"I would've done it, if I weren't knocked to da ground every five cycles. Are ya sure we can't trade 'er for Blackarachnia?"  
"Yes, Rattrap, I am positive about that."

Kittar finished the ablutions ignoring the male's voices, and stretched on the ground, exposing her belly to the sun. She was starting to doze off, when someone stole the sun again.  
"Hey, what do you say we race to the trees and back?"  
She didn't even bother to open her eyes. "Don't feel like it."  
"Aww, come on..." Cheetor poked her upturned stomach in a friendly manner. Kittar shot up almost vertically and punched him upon landing.  
"OW!" Cheetor rubbed his nose. "Why d'you do that?"  
"Never touch my belly." He wriggled his nose to check if it's still working. "Why not?" "Because. It's an animal thing."

The young bot sighed, and then he remembered something. "Hey, I've thought of something. Remember how you couldn't find anything on pods in our computers? "  
"Yes." She yawned.  
"Well, then, maybe you could just go and see the pods yourself?" She livened up at once. "You have the pods? I thought you've launched them?"  
"Only the occupied ones, the rest--" She was on the lift before he could finish. "Well, show me!"

OoOoO

The stasis hold was a big room, with a row of clamps running along all its walls, and an emergency hatch on the ceiling. Seven pods were still secured to the wall. Kittar took one look on them, and information exploded in her mind.  
"Basic procedure for long cruise vessels is to have onboard the number of stasis pods equal to number of crew members, plus blanks and spare pods, quantity of both equal to 10 of crew members number." She smiled at Cheetor. "So what your crew members number was?"  
He blinked, surprised. "Er...thirty two."  
Her optics dimmed for a moment, as she calculated. "That means three spare pods." Looking at the seven containers, she frowned. "One less than it should be."  
"Er, no, actually, the four for standing crew and three spares. Er, 'cause Dinobot wasn't with us. Er. He was, kinda, Predacon. But he joined us the first day we've landed."  
Kittar looked at him with unblinking optics, thinking it over. "Oh." She said finally, with a casual tone of voice. It didn't make any difference to her, really. She moved to the nearest pod and opened its panel. She looked at the modules, and dozens of blueprints and diagrams flashed behind her optics. She brightened up. "Ah-ha!"  
"What?" Cheetor moved closer and looked over her shoulder.  
She started to point various parts of machinery enthusiastically. "See this? This is a very old model, and it stores different kind of data in separated modules instead of creating complete virtual core model. Here, this is a behavioral chip, it determines what basic programmin' ya have, Pred or Maxi kinda thin'. An' here is where they download yer datatrax, only they hafta sort it by complexity, ya know, an' da knowledge an' skills goes in here, but da personal data, like memories an stuff, that goes in here, 'cause it takes slaggin' complex structure ta store datas like that, an' that module is Pit damn fragile, an' if anythin' is to malfunction, that is what goes first. An' that must be why me an' Tigatron don't have no memories from before here; that module musta been scrapped in our pods." She beamed at Cheetor.  
"Oh," he said faintly, recovering from the shock of hearing a lecture said in Rattrap's accent and manner. Why Kittar was talking like that when Rattrap didn't hear it and therefore couldn't be annoyed by it, was beyond him. "That explains it, I guess..." He thought for a while. "What's a blank?"  
"Just a protoform without a spark. For spare parts, mostly. And in case..." she stopped talking, looking at him thoughtfully. Somewhere in the back of her CPU there was an annoying feeling that she shouldn't be talking with him about that. Something about the young age... She wrinkled her nose. She could try and figure out what was that about, but she didn't feel like it. "Ah, never mind," she finished. And since the pods held no further interest for her, and she wasn't sleepy anymore, she challenged him. "I bet I can beat you to the trees." She beastmoded and took off.  
"No WAY!" Cheetor exclaimed and followed.

* * *

Scorponok welded one more wire in place and sighed. He'd run few more tests, which confirmed that his virus was indeed lethal, but Megatron wanted to know if it would also affect behavior the way Scorponok claimed. He didn't want to wait for a scientist to remove the flaws, though, so he came up with a partial solution. The cyber bee that was initially intended to be only a carrier for the virus, was to be modified to keep the infected unit on-line for one solar-cycle.

"The target will be Optimus Primal." Megatron said. "When he's infected, his troops will either remove the bee - thus killing their leader, - or will be forced to negotiate with us in order to acquire the cure." He smiled evilly. He knew exactly what he'd demand in that instance.  
"They could also attack us," Tarantulas noticed not looking at him. He was busy searching data for one specific blueprint. The information on the machinery Megatron was interested in was fragmentary and scattered. Some information here, some diagrams there, some references somewhere else... Piecing it all together was a monumental task, and he'd still have to fill the gaps by himself. And even if he managed to make it all work, Megatron would probably do something stupid and waste all his efforts. Tarantulas was annoyed, and, going along with the best of Predacon traditions, was trying to spread the mood. He didn't succeed.

"They could try, of course. But with their leader hiding at the bottom of their ship, and the tiger wandering more than two solar-cycles away, they will be no threat to us." The Predacon leader smiled at his scientists. "Even with Rust and Terrorsaur gone, we won't have troubles defending the base against four Maximals, noo."  
Tarantulas chuckled at that.  
Megatron raised an optic ridge. "I'm glad you find this amusing, Tarantulas. Or maybe you have any... suggestions?"  
The spider-bot smirked. "Indeed I have."  
_You should keep better account of your enemies, oh Mighty One_.  
"You could enclose a bomb to Scorponok's cyber bee. That way you could take down more than one Maximal, if they will be stupid enough to remove it." Megatron for a few nanos just watched him in silence, trying to determine if he'd really heard a note of mockery in spider's voice. Then he smiled. "An excellent idea, yess. Scorponok, see to that."

Scorponok put the tools down with an irritated sigh. He was almost finished, and now he'd have to redesign the whole thing completely. He was sure the spider did it on purpose.  
"It will take a few solar cycles Megatron. My cyber bees weren't designed for such tasks."  
"Well then, it is your job to _re_-design them, I believe. Yess. Oh, and Scorponok..."  
Scorpion was heading to the exit to bring new components, but stopped and turned around at his leader's voice. "Yes, Megatron?"  
"If our 'test' gives satisfying results, I'll want you to supply us with a bigger amount of that virus."

Scientist shifted uncomfortably. That was the tricky part. "I... I'm not sure if I can Megatron. I was updating records on it when we've lost power, and..." he reset his vocalizer. "All data was lost. Beyond recovery."  
Megatron growled. "NOW you're telling me this?"  
Scorponok bowed his head in shame.  
The purple bot tapped his fingers against the armrest, glaring. "Proceed with your current task," he said at last, making a mental note to rip Rust's ears off for that. Who knows what other damages his incompetent meddling had inflicted!

* * *

"Stop meddling with that, you'll break it!"  
"You'd prefer if I broke something else? Someone's big red beak for example?"  
Rust's tone of voice was rather playful, but Terrorsaur moved to the safe distance nevertheless. You never know with those psycho-types...  
Rust chuckled and put a small integrated circuit down. After all, he didn't know if his bad electronic karma wouldn't strike again. No point in damaging anything when resources were so scarce. "So, you think we've got everything?"  
"Huh. Everything that was retrievable. If the spider wants anything else, he'll have to move his fat thorax and get it himself."  
Rust laughed silently and beastmoded. "All right. Backpack, please!"  
Terrorsaur heaved the container with a grunt, put it on the wolf's back and activated the clamps. Rust wriggled a bit to adjust to the weight, and took a few experimental steps. The floater stirred and followed, but its content didn't shift. "Whaddya know, you really know how to secure a cargo."  
Terrorsaur made a face at him, and he chuckled again. Questioning Preds' competence was a sure way to tick them off. It hadn't yet failed him once.  
"Well then, let's go. You can ride the sledge, but," and here his voice almost froze the air, quite a trick considering it was a midday on a desert, "if you'll start singing again, I will tear you apart, no matter how hard I laugh."

* * *

_drip_..._drip_..._drip_...  
A pair of amber optics followed the drops' progress through the series of spiral glass tubes. If her calculations were correct, the extract's concentration would--  
"Ya know, that thing is a perfect model of yer mind. All weird an' twisted."  
Kittar snorted and turned to Rattrap. Her optics gleamed when she saw what he was doing. "Where do you think you're going with my feeder?"  
"Yer feeder?! It's Axalon equipment, everyone can use it!"  
"You can use it, you just can't take it outside."  
"Because?"  
"You'll break it."  
"Wha--? I've been usin' feeders long before yer spark ever came on-line!"  
"But they weren't MINE feeders!"  
"They are not yers! I need to refuel, an--"  
"You can very well refuel right here."  
"No I can't."  
"Yes you can."  
"No I can't!"  
"Yes you can."  
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Rattrap turned and started to the door. A red cat leapt above his head, landed in a doorway and maximized, blocking it.  
/_hissssssss!/_  
Oh-oh. Hissing. Bad news. Very bad news. How can a bot argue with something that's hissing? Rattrap glared at her, putting in his gaze as much hostility as he could manage. She returned the glare. The red opticed dislike, liberally mixed with experienced cynicism, clashed with the amber opticed sheer, fiery stubbornness. Truly, it was a clash of titans.  
Rattrap gave up first. He didn't have all day to waste on some cat's whims. He sat on a box in the corner. "Here. Ya happy?" She smiled triumphantly, walking to him and pulling the feeder out of his hands.  
"Hey!" he protested. "What do ya--? Oh for bootin' up cold, I can do this myself!" She purred, hanging the feeder up and hooking it to Rattrap's arm.  
"Rrrr yerself," he murmured under his breath, resigning himself to his fate. "Preds an' lizards an' cats. An' now she's our chief medic all of a sudden." He shook his head sadly. "We're all gonna die."

* * *

Optimus inhaled deeply and smiled. It was a lovely day, there were no arguments amid the crew for a change, and the Predacons hadn't been causing troubles for solar-cycles. It was a perfect moment. He laughed out loud suddenly.  
Rhinox moved one ear and glanced at him curiously.  
"I just though how lovely this day is, and the next thing that popped in my mind was that there are sure to be some troubles before the sunset." Optimus answered the unasked question and laughed again. "Rattrap's pessimism is contagious."  
Rhinox smiled at the comment. "Are you sure it was Rattrap's influence?" He motioned toward Dinobot, who was checking if auto-guns were functional at the moment. "The longer Predacons are quiet, the more jumpy he gets."  
"That's true. Maybe a little field trip would lighten him up?"  
This time the rhino chuckled. "I very much doubt it."  
"Well, it's worth a try. I was going to do some exploring anyway."  
"Good luck. You're gonna need it."

* * *

Hidden behind a boulder, Scorponok peeked out carefully. Optimus and Dinobot were debating over some plant, and he felt a pang of envy. Not that he was particularly interested in plants, but he'd much prefer to be in his lab inventing - or at least, improving - something, than lurk here, with a cyber-bee full of a deadly virus. The idea of viral warfare always made him nervous, and this time it was worse than usual - because it was his creation hidden in that bee. And it was so very different from what he wanted it to be... With a sigh he stepped from his hideout and took aim.

* * *

The screen lit up with diagrams, graphs and numbers, but it was all not enough. Kittar growled. "This CR sucks!" Her fingers danced over the keyboard, bringing up more info. "This is a viral mine of some kind, but not only that. The virus is disrupting energy flow in his spark, but the bee is stabilizing it. So it had infected him, but is keeping him on-line at the same time. The virus must have some other effect as well, but I can't make analysis until he's out of this piece of junk." She snorted impatiently. "I could hook him up to life support and remove the bee, but here--" she displayed fragment of a diagram, "--is something weird." Rhinox narrowed his optics. "It is a bomb. Give me a 3D image."  
Kittar typed in some commands and the required image appeared. Rhinox and Rattrap studied it, frowning.  
"A spot bomb. I hate this things. They're unpredictable!" Rattrap complained.  
"And it is set to explode when the bee is removed," Rhinox put in.

Cheetor shook his head in confusion. "I don't get it. A viral mine with life support and a bomb? Why? What for?" He looked at Kittar, who shrugged. She was a medic, not an enemy psychology specialist. It was Rhinox who answered.  
"Maybe they hoped we'll just yank it and kill ourselves."  
Dinobot snarled and shook his head. "Megatron wouldn't go to all the trouble if he hadn't something else in mind. Hnn... You said it's a viral mine. Scorponok used to mumble about a virus he was thinking about - the one that would turn warriors into cowards!"  
Kittar swiveled in her chair to look at him. "Behav-virus? Then we have nothing to worry about."

In a sudden silence, a distant chirp of crickets could be clearly heard. She shrugged. "What? Behav-virs are extremely tricky things to make. There are only two that actually work, and they are not working the way their creators had initially in minds. The others don't work at all."  
Rhinox coughed. "So you're saying..."  
"That the bomb is our only problem. I can handle the rest." She looked at Rattrap. "Explosives are your specialty, right?" Before he could respond, the CR was blasted apart from the inside. Two fiery optics flared in the smoke.  
"All right! Who wants some?!"

* * *

Rhinox sat down with an exhausted sigh. Dinobot leaned against the wall. Rattrap winced, rubbing the back of his head. Cheetor sunk to the floor, hunching dejectedly.

Containing their suddenly violent leader hadn't been an easy task. Kittar looked at them with a smirk. "My heroes." She raised a syringe to the light and inspected the mech fluid within. Rhinox blinked. "When did you manage to get this?"  
"When he was busy strangling you. Now excuse me, gents, but I have a counter virus to make." She departed to the Med Bay.  
Rattrap scowled. "When he was busy stranglin' ya. Ain't she sweet? Are ya SURE she ain't a Pred?"  
"Shuddup, Rattrap," Cheetor murmured, letting his head hit floor.

* * *

"So, how are you doing?"  
Kittar rubbed her face impatiently. "I've separated the virus and I'm working on a counter right now. Yes, I did say it before, and yes, I will repeat it the next time you ask. It takes TIME."  
Cheetor sent her a hurt glance and left. He just couldn't stand to see Optimus - his commander, his hero - in this state. He trudged around the base, with his head bowed, not paying attention to his surrounding. He cringed at a sudden roar of rage. He looked up to discover that he somehow ended up outside the brig. "Optimus," he whispered, touching the clear panel.

* * *

Rattrap got up and brushed himself off. He took a look at the demolished control room. "Good work, genius. Really great work. Couldn't ya just wait till Kittar fixes a medicine for 'im?"  
Cheetor's optics were full of guilt and despair. "But it was taking ages! And it wasn't right to lock him up like that! He was hurting himself in there!"  
"An whaddaya think he's gonna do now, huh? Attackin' da Preds' base, that's what he's gonna do. Ya think he won't get hurt _there_?"  
"That's enough," Rhinox rumbled, heading for the lift. "We just have to back him up. Now." He looked at Kittar. "You work on that anti-virus. We'll try to get it from the Preds, but in case we don't succeed..."  
She nodded. "Good luck."

* * *

"Home sweet home!" Rust's bright voice shook Terrorsaur out of a light recharge.  
"Huh?" The pterodactyl looked up and brightened. The form of a black ship was outlined against the sky. "Finally! One more day with you and I'd go crazy."  
The wolf stopped so suddenly, that Terrorsaur was catapulted forward from the overloaded floater. He flopped his wings madly, and managed to land on his feet. "What's with you?!"  
Rust perked his ears, his body tense. "Gunfire." He transformed twice and dashed towards the base, leaving the cargo behind. After a moment's hesitation, Terrorsaur followed. He didn't hear anything, but-- An explosion shook the air.  
OK, so there _was_ some fighting. He kept at Rust's tail, since the wolf obviously knew where he was going. Rust reached the base, darted inside, found what he was looking for and stopped, transforming to bot mode. Terrorsaur came to a halt behind him, looked down at two bodies lying in a crater, and laughed. "Ha! Our beloved leader and his loyal second in command!" He started toward them. "Let's throw them into lava!"  
/_Cli--click-clong_/  
--and Terrorsaur's universe suddenly froze, divided in two overlapping realities.  
In one there was a ship, a crater, and Rust, still looking down at Megatron, his left arm outstretched toward Terrorsaur.  
In the second one, there was a long, dark tunnel, with a searing light at the end. The light was humming softly, and seemed to be calling to him...  
And what it called was:

Hi there, Terror! Remember Rust's blaster? The one as big as your arm? You're looking into its barrel, pressed to your right optic. And that light you see - pretty, isn't it? - means that he'd already pulled the trigger almost all the way, and now it's only a twitch of his finger that's between you and decapitation. Have a nice day!

Very, very slowly, trying not to breath, and even not to blink, Terror raised his hands in surrender, praying with all his might for Rust to accept it. He could survive having his head severed, not disintegrated...  
Rust's finger relaxed, and the light disappeared, but the blaster reminded in place. "You were saying?"  
Hundreds of thoughts came running through the flyer's head as he restarted his air intakes, and one pushed to the front before he could stop it. "WHY are you so slaggin' loyal to him?"  
Rust laughed. "Because I choose to be that way. Now, are you going to help me take them to CR-tanks, or would you rather join them?"  
"I'll help."  
"Good choice."

When Megatron and Scorponok landed in the tanks, Rust did... something. His optics glazed for a few nanos, and then he headed straight to the first level, where--  
"Holy slag, spider!"  
Tarantulas rolled his head. "...en?" he mumbled unintelligibly.  
Rust was at his side in an instant. Terrorsaur only gaped. The scientist was pinned to the wall with his own projectile, and his arms where hanging limply at his sides, due to large holes blasted in his shoulders. That was... well, not so horrible, he'd seen worse at the arena, but who could have done this here? Surely not the Maximals?  
Rust looked at him over his shoulder. "Go outside and check how the rest are doing." Terrorsaur obeyed. After a close encounter of the third kind with this blaster, he was in no mood to argue. Once left alone, Rust inspected Tarantulas's wounds. "It's gonna hurt," he warned, grabbing the projectile and pressing one foot against the wall for additional leverage.

OoOoO

"It...nna...urt," said a voice, and then the pain he felt increased rapidly. Tarantulas barely stopped the cry that tried to escape his voice box. Some weird noise nearby, and a sensation of being carried. Pain subsided a little. And a voice again. "Yo...gon...al..ight. I...akin...to...CR..." Whose voice was that? He didn't recognize it. It continued talking, giving him something he could focus on, till he was laid on a cold metal, and a darkness of off-line claimed him, as cool fluid of CR-tank covered his body.

OoOoO

Rust turned from CR as Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia brought in Waspinator.  
"Slaggin' Pit! What hit _him_?"  
"Rhinox's chain guns."  
Rust shook his head and activated yet another CR-tank. Good thing they had enough of those. "And you told me the Maxis here were wimps." He made sure every piece of his roommate landed in the tank, and then herded the remaining two bots to the control room. Once there, he checked the damage reports.  
"Well, we have some repairs to do. You," he looked at Blackarachnia, "will take care of electricity, while Terror and me patch up the outer wall."  
The femme snorted. "And why should we do anything you say?"  
Rust smiled, walked up to her and slammed her to the wall. "Because I'm bigger and nastier and I will break your legs if you try to point them at me." He smiled again. Blackarachnia lowered her machineguns she'd started to raise, and her dark optics flickered to the side. Rust knew perfectly well what she was looking at. Or whom, to be more precise. Terrorsaur was now behind his back, and she was seeking help from him. He didn't turn. Instead, he stared at the shiny metal of her face. Terrorsaur's silhouette was reflected in it clearly.

The red bot didn't even stir. She could be as attractive as she wanted, he wasn't feeling heroic today. _You're on your own, lady_.

Blackarachnia narrowed her optics. _Coward!_  
"Oh, whatever!" she gritted and pushed past Rust. He laughed silently, turning to face Terrorsaur. "Well, let's move."

* * *

Cheetor was frantic.  
"Why is he off-line? He was fine just a cycle ago! Have something gone wrong?"  
Kittar quickly went over the scan results and shook her head. "He's just recharging. He's had a hard day." She subspaced her monitor. "Just take him to his quarters and let him sleep it off. I'll be there in a moment to set up an energon feed."

Rattrap sat down, putting his feet up at the table. "Well, we didn't die today. Ain't life full of surprises, Chopper-face?"  
"For once, I must agree with you, vermin," Dinobot snarled. Rattrap shut his mouth in the middle of a yawn. "Well, ah, now I know yer tired. Hey, where are ya goin'?"  
"I have... something I must attend to," the warrior answer from the lift.

OoOoO

_"It's just like Dinobot said, we have to hit them hard, fast and right where it hurts!_" Optimus had screamed just before he blew up the roof hatch and stormed out of the base. It was...strange, to have his own words thrown back at him like this. And somehow, they didn't sound so wise anymore. To admit a mistake was something that Predacons weren't good at. Dinobot knew he probably would never force the right words out. But--  
He crouched beside a small plant.  
--perhaps there was a different way.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I really don't know which one of you I hate mo-/_yawn_/-re", Terrorsaur stated, leaning heavily against the wall.  
The blue bot chuckled. "I'll take it as a compliment."  
Blackarachnia muttered something un-lady-like, suppressing a yawn. Rust shook in silent laughter. Actually, he was just as tired as they were, but he was not going to show it. It would take all the fun out of it. "I really don't understand why are you so exhausted. One would think you've never worked full time before."  
Two smaller bots shot him hostile glances. He grinned.  
A small beep came from the CR tank. Rust turned to face it, keeping his hands behind his back. It was his version of standing to attention. "Welcome back, sir."

Megatron shook his head, stared at three bots in front of him, and terrorized, out of normal predacon paranoia. Then he looked at them closer, and determined they weren't a threat. Then he sorted through the memories. The most recent one included a bomb on his neck. He winced, checking the time. Twelve mega-cycles. Well, not so bad. He jumped down from the platform. "I see you've come back."  
Rust nodded. "We've brought parts Tarantulas told us about. They're now in hold #3. Here's the list." He handed Megatron a data-pad. "Terrorsaur made it, 'cause I couldn't recognize half the staff. And we have repaired damages to the base while you were off-line, sir"  
Megatron raised optic ridges. That would explain why the other two looked so exhausted. "Good. Where's the rest of the crew?"  
Rust gestured to the CRs behind him. Megatron turned and scowled. Three tanks were active. The panels on two of them told him that the repair cycles were almost complete. And somehow, he had no doubt that in the one that was only halfway through repairs was a certain wasp. He growled quietly, before turning back to Rust.  
"The three of you are off-duty for now."  
"Thank you, sir." Rust saluted, properly for once, did a perfect turnabout and left. Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia stumbled after him.

Once in his room, Rust let the long suppressed yawn escape him. He inspected his bunk tiredly. Was scrambling up there worth the effort? He felt his optics shutting down. Nope. Not worth at all. He beastmoded and was deep in recharge even before his head touched the floor.

* * *

In a dark lab a shadow moved, and a computer was switched on.  
The codes, diagrams of nanites and chemical formulas scrolled on the screen. The results of months of work and dreams.  
Wasted.  
A few keys were hit.  
_**Delete folder Vir-027  
Confirm/Abort ?**_  
The words were blinking on a screen.  
_**Confirm/Abort ?  
**_A claw touched the button.  
_**Confirm  
**_

---

End of part four

---

Chapter edited on 28.02.2008


	5. Few peaceful days

**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here.

**A/N**: The cats in general hate water. The tigers are only felines who like it.  
Also, in modern times, there are no white tigers with green eyes, or white tigers that live in snowy mountains, so I just assume that Tigatron's beast-mode is some kind of extinct snow tiger. No, it doesn't have anything to do with the story. I'm just feeling chatty today and wanted to share a reflection. Anyway, the story is just few lines below. Go on and read. ;)

**Spoilers**: small reference to ep. 13 "Dark designs".

Mission: To save Beast Warriors

Part five

Few peaceful days

_They're only peaceful by comparison. If you think there will be no shooting... think again._

_-_

_-_

_-_

_The air smelled of heavy metals, energon, and mech fluid. The alley was dark, like most of the city was these days.  
He slowly approached the lying figure and pressed his weapon to the Predacon symbol on the other bot's chest. Optics full of fear looked up at him.  
"Speeder? Please... it wasn't me, you know me all my live, you know I wouldn't..." He started pulling the trigger, fury and hatred swirling inside him.  
"I swear it wasn't me, please don't..."  
He backed away slowly. It wasn't the pleading that stopped him, but doubt. He didn't know if it was this Predacon who ambushed the others, not for sure. "Get out of my sight," he whispered hoarsely.  
And just a few mega-cycles later there was this Predacon's laughter echoing in another dark alley, and a body twitching in a puddle of energon and mech fluids.  
He run to his friend's side and fall to his knees just in time to see red optics dimming to eternal darkness. And the laughter still echoed between the walls_.

He woke up, staring at the ceiling. These dreams weren't exactly nightmares. They only brought anger, not fear. He heard the door next to his opening, stood up abruptly and walked out to the corridor. The tall transformer was heading to the control room.  
He leaned against the wall, waiting for anger to subside to the level of his usual... distrustfulness. His bright red optics locked on the other's back darkened to near purple.  
_I'm watching you_.  
___________________________________________________________________________

*Yaaaaaaaaaawn* *Snap* *Sniff* *Yawn*

_All right, enough of this morning noises. Up, up, up, you lazy wolf_!  
Rust jumped briskly to his feet and terrorized. What's the time? Sheesh, he'd been recharging for over eight megas! And he was still a little dizzy!  
He froze suddenly. Dizzy? And... yes, a bit languid as well. Grrr.  
He reached to the sub-pocket.

Waspinator kicked the walls as he went through the corridors. He'd obeyed the orders, he was defending the base while Megatron and Scorponok were doing Primus-knows-what, he received severe damages, and what he got for all that as soon as he came out of a CR-tank? A lecture about being careless and incompetent!  
"Megatron incompetent himself!" he muttered angrily. "Not Waspinator's fault rhino-bot mean shooter!" He opened the door to his room--

"Stay out," came a growl.

--walked in--

A shot singed a wall about four inches from his face.  
--and staggered back with a startled yell.

"When I say 'stay out', I mean it," Rust growled from inside.  
Waspinator caught his balance and clenched his fists, glaring at the door. It was HIS door, slaggit, he had every right to go in there... Even in his room he couldn't have a moment's peace now!  
"Why Rust shooting Waspinator?" he asked, a strange mix of anger and self pity in his voice.  
"I feel like it."  
Waspinator scowled under his helmet. Typical! _Everyone_ felt like scrapping him!  
After a while he registered that Rust's voice sounded strange. Harsh and... strained? He hesitated, curiosity fighting with caution in his circuits. Before he could decide whether he should risk going inside or not, Rust appeared in the doorway. He was breathing heavily.

"The room is all yours," he said mockingly with an inviting gesture. "Until I come back, that is."

Waspinator eyed him suspiciously. "What Rust did?"  
"None of your business, wasp," the wolf bot responded, whacking him upside the head. "See ya."  
He walked away quickly, before any more questions could be asked. In their room, a small recycle unit was disintegrating an empty syringe.

* * *

"I don't see why I hafta always be paired with ya, Scale-belly."

"Hnn. Perhaps our leader realizes no one else have skills to compensate for your unlimited incompetence, vermin."  
"Hey! Ya think yer so tough, huh? I could take ya down in ten nanos, lizard-breath!"  
"Is that so? Hnn. Why don't you prove it, rodent?"  
"I would, but I don't wanna get nearer to yer stinking hide than I hafta!"  
"Why don't you admit you're just afraid, mouse?"  
"Da only thing I'm 'fraid of is yer breath, ya duplicitous Pred turncoat!"

That hit the nerve, and the raptor charged at the rat, knocking him to the ground. Fortunately, Rattrap's comlink beeped before things turned ugly.

**Dinobot, Rattrap, the enemy has entered the area. I hope you two can work together long enough to take them down.**

Rattrap got to his feet, glancing at his snarling adversary. "I can work together, Rhinox. Da Chopper-face is da one who has troubles with comprehendin' the idea."  
A desperate sigh came from his comlink. **Just try not to kill each other. That's the Predacons' job.**

"My point exactly!"  
Dinobot started snarling a response, but Rhinox cut him off.  
**The enemy is closing in on your position. Take care of them, NOW!** he said, and finished the transmission with an audio-twisting bout of static. The rat and the raptor winced, and stared at each other.  
"Well? What our _great_ strategist hafta say now?" Rattrap asked finally.  
Dinobot snarled at the mockery in his voice, but it was not the time for further quarrels. "They have approached the area from grid Zion. Hnn. They will most probably hide near the clearing, where they can prepare an ambush as well as defend themselves if situation calls for it. Hnn. The energon field is strong around here, it will prevent them from locating us by technological means, but the wind is to our disadvantage."  
"Oh, I don't think so. We just hafta make sure they feel yer stench, lizard-breath, and they'll flee."  
"Hmm, I was rather worried that YOUR stench will give away our position."  
"Bah! Yer just makin' excuses, 'cause you've no idea what to do!"  
"I know perfectly well what to do, vermin! If--" He fell silent suddenly, and looked the rat up and down considerately. He meant to say that he'd be sure to win if he didn't have to work with an incompetent vermin, and stopped himself. The rat had proved at more that one occasion that he was not as inept as Dinobot had used to think. So...

"Well? What are ya starin' at?"  
The raptor raised his head, until he was looking at something above their heads. Rattrap followed his gaze to the tangle of branches, so dense it was almost solid.  
"Would you be able to make your way to the clearing undetected, if I tossed you up there, rodent?"  
Rattrap smirked maliciously, when he realized what the raptor was getting at.

"Bah! I can do a step dance up there, Chopperface, IF you can get me there."  
They both maximized, Dinobot clasped his hands together, and the next nano Rattrap was sent flying vertically to the nearest bough. He beastmoded in the air, got a hold on rough bark and scrambled to the top of the branch.  
Dinobot snarled. _Not bad, vermin_.  
Rattrap glanced down with a smirk. _Nice throw, Dino-butt_.  
"I will need about fifteen cycles to sneak up on them. Hnn. IF you reach them sooner, wait for my shot. You have no chance fighting them alone, Cheese-ball."  
"Same goes to you, Chopperface."

Not far from two parting Maximals was a clearing. It was a small rocky area speckled with few boulders, which could provide cover for someone who might happen to need it. Two bots in beast modes lay low at its edge, scanning it suspiciously.  
"It looks clear," one of them said. They both started as a pack of birds took off with loud screeching not far from them. "They must be somewhere over there, but that energy field is messing up my tracker!"  
The bigger one sniffed the air. "We don't need the tracker. At least as long as they are upwind from us."  
"What? OH!" The smaller bot sniffed as well. "You're right! That's--"  
"Shhh!" The bot that was obviously in the lead gestured to his companion, indicating that they should hide among the boulders. As they did so, the smaller bot sniffed again and a look of panic appeared on his face. The other smiled reassuringly and made a circling gesture. _They are circling to creep up on us from behind_.  
They transformed and turned, scrutinizing the thicket to the sides and in the direction they came from. The leader hid behind the rock, and pointed a hiding place he chose for his companion.  
They waited in a tense silence.

After some time the smaller bot leaned to his leader. "Are you sure--Yip!" He yelped and ducked, as a green laser singed the tip of his nose.  
"Yes I am! Shoot them!"  
They both opened fire in the direction the laser came from. A tall shape leaned from behind a tree, shot at them again, and leaned back.  
"Come out here and fight!" smaller bot shouted, rolling to join his companion behind a boulder from where he had a better chance to hit--

*BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM*

Two bots screamed more in shock than pain, as four shots from behind pushed them into a rock they were using as a cover. "What?! Where are they?!" The smaller one's optics were wide, his armed hand waved frantically in search for the enemy. The next shot knocked the weapon out of his hand, the next one hit him in the arm, the next one singed the fur on his chest... "All right, that's enough!" the bigger bot shouted, moving to shield his companion. "You have--"  
With a swift rush a brown shape hit him from the side, pushing him back on the boulder. The sword swished through the air.

High up on the tree, Rattrap's gun moved lightning fast from the bot on the ground to Dinobot's head.

Optimus squinted at the frighteningly still sword's tip, glittering an inch away from his face. "--won," he finished weakly. Dinobot made a 'like I didn't know' grunt and backed away, sheathing the sword.

Rattrap lowered his gun. _All right._ _But I'm STILL watching you._

He relaxed, as his mind left the dark alleys and came back to the pierced with sunrays jungle.

Primal couldn't stop a weary smile, as a laugh rang out somewhere high.  
"Just like shootin' protoforms inna pods, dontcha think, Dino-butt?"  
Dinobot snarled in agreement. "It was indeed too easy, rodent. What took you so long?"  
"I didn't of a clear shot at the pussy-cat till he went to Optimus, and I didn't wanna spoil da surprise."  
Cheetor got up, rubbing the burn on his arm. If this was the lowest power setting, then he was a space commando!  
"That was totally unfair! You were supposed to stay together!"

Rattrap slid down the tree trunk. "Nah, kiddo, we were suppose ta WORK together. There were no rules 'bout splittin' up." He grinned, delighted. "And now ya hafta do my monitor duty fer a week!"  
"No way! Optimus!"  
Optimus shook his head. "I'm sorry Cheetor, but you did make this bet, and they won. All's fair and square."  
"Awww..."

* * *

His claw slipped on a floater's rudder, and the whole thing shook dangerously. Scorponok gasped and grabbed for the handle, regaining his balance with difficulty. He hated these unstable platforms, he hated these claws that made him twice as clumsy as he normally was, he hated being airborne, and most of all, he hated the lava pits below. Ever since they had crashed here, the list of his worst nightmares was enriched by an image of him falling into the lava and melting into a sorry puddle of liquid scientist.

Shaking his head, he steered the platform to the center of the control room, where Megatron summoned them all. With a soft sigh of relief he stopped the craft in midair. Once again he-- With a rush of air and a clang of impacting metal, Terrorsaur's platform bumped into his, as the red bot zoomed past with a malicious snigger. Scorponok yelped, waved his arms, the floater jerked, he slipped, his widened visor caught the glimpse of a red glow below--

An arm shot from the side, grabbing the edge of the platform and stabilizing it. "Careful, sarge," Rust said absentmindedly, not even looking at him, let go of the metal and moved his own platform closer to Megatron.

Scorponok looked after him, blinking. _Err, thanks?_

***

It was called a Transmuter.

Looking at the diagrams Tarantulas was displaying on the screen, Waspinator made a face, safe in knowledge that no one would see it behind his helmet.  
Megatron's forces building some freaky weapon to defeat Optimus's forces. It was so awfully familiar he wanted to scream. But if he did, if he told, 'no way, this will not work, and only cause us troubles, and send me to the CR-tank,' he would only get screamed at. And then blamed, when the catastrophe would occur. Then he thought that he'd probably get screamed at and blamed no matter what, so...

"Wazzpinator not think it a good idea," he ventured.

Everyone turned to stare at him.  
"You were not asked for an expertise, Waspinator, noo." Megatron said with unusual patience. "In fact, your presence here is superfluous. As I recall, you should be on monitor duty, yess."  
Waspinator bowed his head and flew away from his platform, buzzing sulkily. When he was out of earshot, he started complaining to himself. "Megatron never listen to Waspinator, Megatron only screams and send Waspinator away, Waspinator sick of stupid Megatron..."

***

When the buzzing flyer disappeared, Megatron gestured for Tarantulas to continue. The spider complied, explaining the details of the device, listing the parts needed ('which our intrepid salvagers fortunately provided,' he added with a cackle), and ending the lecture with stating that building the thing will be only the start, because it will require some careful programming.  
Megatron nodded. It was exactly what he'd expected, after all. "Well done, Tarantulas. Scorponok and Blackarachnia will work on the structure under your supervision. And you--" he added, glaring sternly at Rust, who was looking at the monitor with uncanny glint in his optics, "--are to keep away from the construction site."

"Awwww..."

***

After a lot of whining and begging and swearing that he will not destroy anything, promise, Rust was finally allowed to serve as a delivery bot for the project.  
Terrorsaur, sitting in front of surveillance monitors, (it was his shift now) was quickly developing a nervous tick. The route from holds to the third deck, where the machine was being built, went through the corridor the comm-room opened on to. And so Terrorsaur was forced to listen to  
_tatta tap, tatta tap_ of wolf's paws on the way to holds...

And _clang clang clang_ of bot's feet on his way back.

After hearing it for about twentieth time, Terrorsaur snapped.

"ARRRRGH! STOP THAT! Stop running, what are you so enthusiastic about, you stupid wolf, go find yourself another route, STOP RUNNING HERE!"

Rust tilted his head, watching enraged flyer with amusement. "OK." And he ran away.

With an irritated sigh Terrorsaur went back to the monitors. What a jerk, why he had to survive the crash, why he had to come back...  
_ZIOooommmm....._

Huh? He glared at the door suspiciously. What the Pit was that? After a while he shook his head and returned his attention to the screens.

_ZIIOoooommmm.... _

Out of the corner of his optic he noticed something zooming past the door. He tried to ignore it. Some cycles of peace went by, and--

_ZIOOMmmmm....._

Argh! What did he come up with now? Swearing under his breath, the flyer headed to the corridor.  
"OUTTA MY WAY!"  
"GAK!!!"

Megatron growled as a distant crash and clamor could be heard. He went to investigate, and found two bots, red and blue, both with impressive collections of dents, trying to untangle themselves, and screaming at the top of their vocalizers.  
"You slaggin' reject of a compactor glitch, you have all your screws loose, the pit smelted corridors are to narrow to hover, you fragging can of rusted nuts!"  
"It was your own fault, who told you to come in here, I wouldn't run you over if you kept your skid-plate where you were supposed to be, you had your job, you didn't have to interrupt mine!"

Megatron measured up their damages. He inspected a twisted floater, embedded in the corridor's wall. He drew a conclusion. He lowered power setting of his laser and shot both bots to get their attention.  
"To the CR-tanks, both of you. When you're repaired, Terrorsaur, you will return to your duties. You, Rust, will go on twelve mega-cycles' scouting patrol. And don't you DARE to come back earlier."  
"Yes, Megatron."  
"Aye, sir."  
They said meekly, and limped away, exchanging muttered insults.

With a growl Megatron walked into the comm-room, to temporarily replace the red flyer on monitor duty. He really, really missed having regular soldiers under his command. If he went in for praying, he would now pray for Transmuter to work, so he could have at least one.

* * *

By the time the winners and the losers returned to the Axalon, the winners managed to go through one major and two minor quarrels. Small ones were mainly name-calling; the big one was about which one of them contributed to their victory. Optimus rolled his optics despairingly. So much for creating the team spirit.  
He had radioed Kittar and Tigatron, who were watching out for Predacons during their exercises, to let them know it was over. Tigatron said humorously that he is glad there were no casualties, while Kittar first words were 'Who won?' She seemed to be very pleased by the outcome.  
***

Kittar smiled to herself, tossed aside a dismantled spider/arachnoid/flashlight, and ran back to base. When she reached Axalon, a little out of breath, she sniffed the ground around the lift, scowled, thought for a moment, then found herself a convenient boulder. She crouched behind it, in a seemingly relaxed pose of a cat waiting for something edible to be careless enough to come near.

Few cycles went by, filled only with gusts of warm wind, and then her prey arrived. She followed it with her eyes through the plains and onto the lift. Two figures disappeared, then the lift went down again. Two remaining bots were looking at it, their backs turned to her. Kittar slowly emerged from behind the boulder, using the soft noise of lift's engine to muffle her already almost inaudible steps. Ever so slowly she approached her target, boring into its back with her gaze.  
The lift thumped on the ground, and two bots stepped on it, oblivious to the menace prowling just few meters from them.  
Kittar waited for the lift to move again before she pounced.

"I'm back. Missed me?"

Rhinox just shook his head sadly at the death threats coming from the lift shaft. There seemed to be no way to discourage Kittar from announcing her return to the least interested person. Between her and Dinobot, Rattrap had a very hard time indeed.

The lift brought on-board a living sculpture titled 'emotions'. Cheetor, standing tall, laughing his head off, Rattrap, flat on his front, furious, and Kittar, somewhere in the middle, both physically and mentally.  
"Hi Rhinox! We'll need to work on the CR," she announced as soon as she saw him, immediately loosing interest in everything else.  
"I'm almost done with it," Rhinox replayed, glancing at the mentioned machine, the one that suffered gorilla's wrath not so long ago. Kittar scowled. "You just repaired it, I want to improve it. If it had mech-fluid analyzer, and artificial-stasis commencer, and a remote repair option, this whole mess would have never happen."  
Rhinox smiled involuntarily. "You're rather demanding. It's hard to expect a Debius-202 on an exploration vessel."

She wrinkled. "Well, _I'm_ on this vessel and I want a _proper_ CR to work with. And Debius-202 is not so great anyway. A little upgraded Cols-16 is much better."  
"Hmmm, either way, I'm not sure if we have components to--"  
"We have. I've checked the cargo holds, and we can adapt some parts from other machines, like..." and here she went into extremely complicated technical details.

Cheetor looked down at Rattrap. "Do you have any idea what are they talking about?"  
"Sure I do. 'Bout lots and lots of troubles. I'm not goin' into anything she messes wit'. I'd rather die my own death, ya know what I'm sayin'?"

***

Rhinox dubiously inspected the system of tubes and syringes Kittar was installing. "Are you _sure _this will interact with the rest of the system?" "I know what I'm doing. I may not be a technician, but I know everythin' there is ta know 'bout CRs. "

"Fer da last time, Daggers, STOP TALKIN' LIKE ME!"  
Kittar looked over her shoulder at Rattrap, staring at her from above his poker game, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He picked at it at once. "Rhinox, just look at 'er, will ya? How can ya let somethin' so immature to mess wit' our 'life or death' machines?"  
She made a face and returned to her work.

Rattrap returned to his game, bristled. Another nickname and another trait crossed out from the 'how to annoy the cat' list. He'd already tried the obvious, 'Fur-ball' and not so obvious 'Fangs' and 'Red-head', he picked at her grooming and sleeping habits (and, man, she could fall asleep in weirdest places!), and got absolutely no reaction. He was slowly running out of ideas.  
_But I will get you, cat, just you wait!_

* * *

A gray blur approached Predacon base at high speed, and didn't slow down one bit once inside.

"Outta my way, outta my way, outta my way!" The wolf stopped for a nano to scratch his side furiously, and resumed the wild canter towards the cleaning facility. He skidded in a doorway, bumped off the frame and dived into the nearest full tub.  
Scorponok, the only bot around, blinked few times, then approached bathroom's door cautiously.

"Rust?" The ripples on the surface were the only response. He stepped closer. "What's it all about?"  
A wolf's muzzle resurfaced, taking in a deep breath. "I itch," it uttered before disappearing again. After a moment it reappeared. "Can you turn the temperature up please?"  
_Gasp, gasp, splash_.  
Scorponok shook his head and increased heater settings.

The heater was a modification he'd provided after discovering just how dirty this planet was. Normally, the tubs only had to deal with dust, oil, sooth, and, of course, liquid energon and mech fluids. Here - there seemed to be no limits to filth types. Tar, sap, juice, some decomposing things better left unknown, blood, volcanic ashes... Almost all of this washed out better in higher temperature, thus the heater. It meant of course that they no longer could inhale it, as it would overheat their circuits, but since their beast-modes needed steady income of oxygen anyway, no one was complaining. In fact, it seemed that Predacons were enjoying the novelty. They were spending much more time cleaning themselves than they used to.

The other little improvement was a small scanner, which allowed to identify type of dirt, and to adjust cleaning liquid's composition to the task.  
Scorponok activated it now and peeked curiously at the readings. His visor widened.

"What the Pit do you have on you?"

_Splash, gasp_. "I donno, but it itch" _Gasp, gasp, splash_.

Ah, warm, mmmm, Oh, itch! Grrr!  
Few bubbles rippled the liquid's surface, as Rust growled. Would his stupid skin stop with the itching already? It started a little while after he'd caught himself a lunch. He enjoyed the sensation at first, but after few mega-cycles it intensified to the point when it started driving him nuts. He'd scratched, bit, weltered, howled in frustration, and as soon as his patrol shift was over he sped to the base with a single thing in mind. A BATH!  
He poked his nose out again, inhaled, and dived.

Mmmm, warm, nice and warm... Oh, stupid itch!

***

It took a better part of a mega-cycle to remove all annoying little creatures from his fur. His skin was still prickling a little, but in an enjoyable way. Yawning, Rust trotted to his room, very careful not to bump into Megatron on the way. You never know, he might want him to do something, and he was somewhat tired at the moment.  
"Outta my way," he mumbled at his roommate's back. Waspinator turned to him with a gasp, dropping something.  
Rust's optics registered falling, potentially noisy object, and his hand stretched out and caught it just above the ground, with no direct command from his processor. Old habits die hard, as they say.

Waspinator was silently wailing and cursing at the same time. He didn't know Rust was back already. Bah, he'd practically forgotten about him, he wouldn't have brought it here if he remembered... And now that pretty thing he'd managed to brought undamaged would be destroyed, and he'd be laughed at yet again. He really couldn't decide which was worse.

Rust blinked at the thing he'd caught. It was a potted plant, with long, shiny leaves and few multi-colored flowers of interesting shapes. He turned it this way and that, trying to phantom why a Predacon would bother with it. Oh, wait; it's Waspinator we're talking about...  
"Nice colors," he commented, putting the plant on a shelf. "Don't wake me unless it's Megatron or the end of the world." He jumped up on his bunk, smirking at his own agility. Not every bot could perform a perfect diving jump into such a narrow space. He yawned. "You know what, after consideration - don't bother with the end of the world."

Waspinator only buzzed. He looked at the flower, radiating with all its beauty, completely unscathed. He looked at the blue bot, recharging already, one of his arms swinging loosely over his bed's edge. The very same bot who shot at him with no apparent reason this morning.  
Carefully, Waspinator moved his newest treasure from a shelf to the table, sat down and stared at it, resting chin on his hands. If someone asked him now what was he thinking, he'd probably close his inner turmoil and confusion in two simple words.

_Rust weird_.

* * *

--_You loose--_  
"What? That stinkin' piece of junk is cheatin'!"  
"It's a computer, Rattrap. It cannot cheat."  
"Yea, yea, unless someone put a worm in it..." Rattrap mumbled, glancing briefly at the green-orange bot hunched over the console. Then he did a double take and gawked.

"Rhinox, why exactly is she using ya as a cushion?"  
"Because _you_ wriggle too much," Kittar said, glancing at him sidelong from her place on Rhinox's shoulders.  
"We're programming the CR," Rhinox rumbled. That is to say, Kittar was telling how she wanted the thing to work, and he was working on the codes. As for Kittar's current location... Well, she had just jumped on his shoulders the moment he sat down, and as far as he knew there was no way of persuading her to move when she wanted to stay where she was, so he didn't even try. Besides, he didn't mind.

Rattrap shook his head, disgusted, and turned back to his computer. He was fed up with poker at the moment, didn't feel like walking out, and, thanks to the won bet, he didn't have to stare at the surveillance monitors. Cheetor was doing it, almost falling over with dullness.  
To be honest, Rattrap was bored too, but he had no intention of admitting it. He'd fought hard for this brief freedom, and he was mechy well going to enjoy it! He gave it some thought, and opened directory with other games. They were all horribly old and primitive, but he felt they had potential. The great fun was just a little upgrade away... Let's see, of whom he'd like to beat the slag out?

***

"Well, it's ready," the green bot said, pushing the final 'enter'. "All yours," he said to Kittar, who momentarily jumped to CR, activated the new control panel and started doing calibrations, configurations, and, generally, making a lot of fuss. At last she smiled and purred. "Perrrrfect. Thanks," she said, looking up at Rhinox. He smiled down at her.  
"Your welcome."  
Kittar cast one final glance at the rebuilt CR, shut it down and lost interest.

"I'm going out," she announced.  
Bent over his self-inflicted task, Rattrap sputtered.  
"Good riddance. Any chances ya won't come back?"  
A dignified huff was the only answer.  
The lift was down, so she just jumped down the shaft. After few nanos there was a noise of a mad scrambling, and she reappeared, all bristled.  
"Well, ah, that was quick!" Rattrap commented.  
Kittar sent him a hurt look. "It's _raining_!" she said, as if it was a personal insult against her.  
Rattrap raised his optic ridges. It wasn't like Kittar to let anything, especially something as insignificant as a mere rain, stop her from doing something she wanted to do.  
"So?" he asked.  
"Everything is wet!"

He was looking at her with bewildered expression, apparently not comprehending this simple fact. Kittar twitched her tail uneasily. "It's WET!" she repeated. Still no reaction. "As in, soaked with water," She tried again. He still was looking at her strangely, and she felt at loss. She wanted him to understand, but she didn't understand WHAT he didn't understand. Neither medical knowledge nor beast instincts provided any clues, and since she had no other resources, she had to improvise.

"It's raining. The water is falling down in little pieces." She wasn't doing a great work of it, was she. She shifted angrily. She hated it when she didn't know what to do! "If I go out, I'll get wet!" There was no way to put it simpler, if he didn't get it now, she would hit him!  
The mischievous smirk spread out slowly on Rattraps face. "And ya don't like bein' wet, is that it?"  
"Yes!"  
Finally! Sheesh, as if it wasn't obvious!  
"That's good ta know," Rattrap said neutrally, swiveling his chair back to his game. Kittar nodded to herself, satisfied, and went to Med-Bay. Behind her back, Rattrap punched the air triumphantly. _YES!_

* * *

Waspinator had a problem. He'd gotten an order. A very simple one. Not even a real order. He'd just been told to do something. Something that was supposed to be easy, and it was easy, only figuring out how to do it without getting damaged was a problem.

Or maybe he was exaggerating. After all, he'd only received few punches so far. Making up his mind, the wasp-bot spoke.  
"Rust?"  
No reaction.  
"Rust," he ventured a little louder. Still no reaction. A little impatiently, he tugged at the blue arm hanging limply from the bed. "Rust!"

In an instant the arm stopped being limp. The hand attached to it closed round his throat, and he was lifted off the floor.  
Blue optics lit up, and narrowed dangerously. "WHAT did I tell you?"  
"Megatron call Rust," Waspinator said as quickly as he could.  
"Oh." Rust dropped his roommate and checked the time. "I was only sleeping for two megas," he complained, sliding to the floor. "Does he think I'm a machine or something?"  
"We all machines," Waspinator pointed out cautiously.  
The wolf-bot scowled. "That's not the point. If he doesn't let me recharge properly in near future, I will renegotiate the contract!"

Waspinator tilted his head, surprised. "Rust have contract?"  
"Well, no. But that's a minor detail. Don't pick on minor details, it ruins the fun." Yawning, Rust left the room.

***

"Wanted to see me, sir?"  
Megatron nodded. "Yes I did. The weather had changed, and Maximals most probably are hiding in their base, yess. I want you to use this opportunity to make yourself familiar with Axalon's surroundings."  
"Aye, sir," Rust mumbled, waving his hand vaguely. If you'd squinted and tilted your head, you'd see kind of a salute in there.  
"I could use some recharging, you know," he added reproachfully. Megatron smiled with politeness that was only a step away from anger. "You can recharge _after_ you come back."  
"Aye sir," Rust repeated grudgingly and departed.

His bad mood and sleepiness dissolved the moment he stepped outside. It was RAINING! With a happy shout, the gray wolf darted forward.

* * *

Hidden in a small coppice, Tigatron growled with content, listening to the rain drumming on leaves. He knew that other bots didn't much like to come out in the rain, quite understandable trait for robotic creatures, but he himself enjoyed it, in his own, quiet way. He laid down, squinting his eyes. He was technically on patrol, but in this weather there was no chance of meeting Predacons, so he let himself relax. His thoughts were shifting lazily.

The small, muddy pond near the Axalon would soon fill with clear rainwater.  
The wind was pushing the clouds toward his mountains, soon it would snow there.  
What was Snow Stalker doing? When he'd decided that he should stay at least within the range of radio communication with Maximals, she followed him for some time, until they've reached the verge of plains. There they had parted, and he was wondering whether she went back to the high mountains, or did she stay on the lower slopes.  
Was she safe?  
He missed her, and the snow, and the frosty air.  
The air now was nice; the rain gave it a rare freshness.  
He thought he could smell the scent of flowers coming from the small valley a little distance away. It was a secluded little area, with its unique microclimate; he'd discovered it few solar-cycles ago, and now, closing his eyes, he could clearly see its multi-flowered magnificence.

And suddenly he felt a ping of anxiety. He _shouldn't_ be able to smell it, it was way too far! And there was something else... His fur bristled slightly, when he tried to put his paw on it. It took him a while to realize what had startled him. A sound. It was so perfectly inscribed in the sound of pouring rain, that for a moment he thought it was his own imagination. But it was getting louder, as if the source of it was nearing...

Carefully, Tigatron got to his feet and moved to the edge of the thicket, so he could watch the surrounding plains without being seen. There was nothing there, but the sound. And then, something appeared from behind a small hill. An animal, about the size of Tigatron, but gray and canine.  
_A wolf_, his datatrax provided. Tigatron's eyes narrowed suspiciously. As far as he knew, wolves were not a native species to this land. Was it truly a wolf, or a Cybertronian in beast mode? And if it was the latter, who was it? That new Predacon, Rust... or someone from the pod? Rhinox had told him two pods were still unaccounted for...  
He crouched, watching the animal, and it was certainly worth watching. It was trotting when he first saw it, but now it was alternately running and jumping vertically, snapping at the raindrops. Then it spotted the puddles nearby and raced at them.

_SPLASH_

_SPLASH_

_SPLASH_

Tigatron started as a loud laughter pierced through the steady hum of rain. So. Definitely a Cybertronian - and a young one. Then his eyes widened. The sound that had first alerted him, and, as he realized, was ringing in the air all along, spiked three times, reflecting almost perfectly the splashes. That was... strange. Then the sound ended abruptly.

***

Rust raced at the puddles and started jumping joyfully, making it his goal to make the splashes as high and loud as possible. He laughed, and dragged the sounds of splashes into his melody. He loved composing rain; it was giving him the rhythm and was practically sucking the music out of everything. Everything was more intense in the rain, colors, smells, sounds, even touch...  
A strong smell tickled his nostrils, and he stopped his humming abruptly. His green eyes lit, as he crouched and started crawling toward smell's source. When he decided he was close enough, he howled wildly and pounced.  
The created stampede was a sight. The variety of species the herd consisted of was astounding, but no mater how much the separate animals differed form each other, they were all bonded by one cause. To. Run. Away. Fast.  
Rust had no objections whatsoever.

Tigatron gasped in outrage as the wolf laughed again and plummeted in the crowd. It was his deepest believe that since transformers could live on energon, they shouldn't hunt, much less disturb the peace of natural life in such reckless fashion! He felt anger sparkling.

Rust was having the time of his life. All this rush, sounds, smells, movement, man, it was intoxicating. He was running along a particularly big antelope, with massive, heavy head and broad horns. He grinned mischievously and jumped, flying above it and landing on the ground on its other side. Hey, that was great! He rushed forward, picking up the largest animals and using them as obstacles in his own version of cross-country race.

Tigatron was running on the verge of the grove, keeping up to the terrified animals. The suppressed anger was sending shivers down his body. Right now he was ready to tear the offender apart, (well, maybe not literally, but some serious mauling was sure to happen), and the only thing that stopped him was the fact that to do that he'd had to drag him from among already scared animals. That, and the memory of how Kittar, and, to less extent, he himself were when they first left their pods. That _could _be a similar case.  
The thought calmed him down.

The wolf looked up in awe at the brown animal with yellow cobweb marks. Wow, tough chances of jumping over _that_. Well, when not going up--

He dashed under creature's belly, jumped over another animal, black and white this time, and scowled when he realized that this took him outside the herd. Oh, shoot...

He ran along, and was preparing himself to jump back in, when with a gust of wind there came another smell, and he halted so rapidly that his hind paws drew a semicircle in the dirt.  
Wet fur, sharp predatory note, and a bitter hint of metal.  
A Maxi?  
Rust closed his eyes and sent his spark senses to scout. There, in the direction of a small patch of jungle, was something like a faint glimmer, but it was too far, and he couldn't be sure if it wasn't his imagination. Well, there were ways to test it...

He turned slowly, until his side was fully exposed to the hypothetical enemy. He stayed like that for some time, but nothing happened. Rust mentally slapped his forehead. _They don't know your beast mode, stupid!_  
He terrorized, and yes, the faint distant glimmer flashed at that in surprise. Hah! Gottcha!

With a silent laugh Rust spread out his arms and bent his head backwards, making his chestplate a perfect target. He waited, marveling at the raindrops whispering on his metal and the thrill running up and down his frame.  
_Will he, or will he not shoot me?_

Tigatron watched the blue bot in amazement. He had no idea why would he behave like that, but one thing he knew for sure - whoever he was, right here, right now, he was not a treat, neither to him nor anyone else. The Cybertronian and the tiger in full agreement decided to leave him alone and back away. After few nanos he heard the other bot's laughter following him.

Rust felt the other's spark leaving and laughed.  
_See ya next time, Maxi_!  
Well, enough playing, let's get back to the task...  
___________________________________________________________________________

Cheetor was slowly sliding off his chair. It was so DULL! What was the point of monitor duty when it was pouring like this outside? He was at the verge of death by boredom, when the radio crackled with incoming transmission.  
**Tigatron to Maximal base.**

The teenbot jumped to the mic so eagerly, he nearly tripped over his chair.

"Hey there, Big Cat, how you're faring out there? Not drowned yet?"  
Tigatron chuckled.

**It would take more than a simple rain to drown this cat. Is Dinobot somewhere around?**  
"Ah, no. Why?"  
**I need to ask him a question.**

"Oh, OK, wait a cycle, I'll call him."

Tigatron waited patiently, looking at the sky. The clouds were racing across it, taking the load of water to the distant mountains. Tigatron sighed. He'd have to ask Rhinox to work on some long-range comm...

A snarl in his comlink drew his attention.  
**This is Dinobot. What is it?**  
"That Predacon you've told us about, Rust... Is he a blue bot about our size?"  
**Hnn. Yes, he was about an inch higher than me. Why do you ask?**

"I saw him today from a distance. He has a gray wolf as a beast mode. I though you should know that."

Dinobot agreed it was a valuable piece of information, asked where exactly Rust was spotted, and closed the connection. ___________________________________________________________________________

The rain finally stopped, and Waspinator was sent out on patrol. He was buzzing happily, admiring the rainbow, sure that at least today he wouldn't end up in CR-tank.  
Poor, poor Waspinator...

Rust had put the rainy mega-cycles to good use, and now he could draw a map including every stone, bush and ravine within two thousand meters from maximal base with his eyes closed. And a little less detailed map of whole terrain between two bases. He was going back, when he heard the characteristic buzzing, and went to investigate. He found Waspinator, hovering and munching on some fruit. The juice was dripping down his skinny 'arms', straight into a large muddy puddle beneath.

A mischievous grin appeared on wolf's face. That was an opportunity he just couldn't miss...  
He crouched and crept up on the unsuspecting victim.  
_Drip,_ step, _drip,_ step, _drip,_ JUMP!

Waspinator yelped, the puddle splashed, and Rust laughed. "Gottcha!"  
He stopped laughing after a while. Something was wrong. The wasp-bot terrorized and scrambled out of the mud, but instead of shouting or at least complaining, he was shaking in silent sobs. Then he suddenly kicked at the mud, splashing him with it.  
"Stupid Rust!" There was despair in his voice, and something told Rust that the kid was crying under his helmet. "Now Waspinator have to WALK back to base!"  
_Huh?_  
Then he understood what the wasp was talking about. One of his delicate wings was broken in several places. It had to hurt, but, more importantly, it meant he was grounded. And wasps weren't designed for long walks.  
_Oh crap._

Waspinator was staring at the bigger bot, wishing for him to melt down spontaneously, or to get squashed under a mountain, or to drop into lava, or at least to take some serious beating. But he was bigger and stronger, and there was really nothing Waspinator could do. So he just turned and walked away. After few steps he opened his helmet to wipe away the tears.

"Hey, wait!" Rust ran after the small bot and grabbed his arm.  
"Go away!" Waspinator shouted, shutting the helmed quickly, but not quickly enough. Rust caught a glimpse of his face. Yep, he was crying, all right. Slag it. "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."  
"Rust leave Waspinator alone!" he pushed the blue bot away. He didn't need any stupid, false apologies! "Rust stupid, mean bulldozer!" He threw over his shoulder.  
Rust growled. "Look, I'm SORRY! I'll give you a ride home, all right?"  
"Not all right! Rust go jump into lava!"

Rust stopped and counted to ten, watching the back of the retreating bot. NOW he was being proud and stubborn. Great timing, wasp! He breathed deeply, beastmoded and followed the smaller bot in a distance, until he shuddered suddenly and beastmoded as well.

Rust quickened his pace and gained on him easily. "Come on, it will take you ages to reach the base."  
"So Rust can be happy and go away!"  
All right, that does it. He was angry and tired, and he was done with persuading. He simply charged the wasp, jerking his head in a sweeping motion, sending a bundle of buzzing to the air and then moved under its falling form.  
Waspinator landed on wolf's back, and this time, he didn't care about anything. He arched his body angrily--  
Rust sensed his movement, and turned his neck to stare at the wasp with one threatening eye. "Sting me, and I'll bite your head off!"  
Waspinator froze, then looked away and reluctantly relaxed.  
"That's better. Now hold on to the fur, we'll be going fast."

* * *

Megatron was on his way to Scorponok's lab, when he heard the sound of claws scratching on the floor in attempt to stop its owner's progress through the corridor. The obnoxious sound was followed by a surprised yelp, and the next moment something crashed at Megatron's feet. He suppressed the automatic urge to wipe out the corridor with few well aimed shots and looked first down, at the maltreated wasp, scrambling to his feet, and then at the rather embarrassed wolf, sitting at the end of a braking trail.

"WHAT happened?"

Rust half opened his mouth in a wolfish grin. "I've hunted a wasp!"  
For half a nano, Megatron was looking like he was about to explode. Then he just growled to help Waspinator to the CR-tank, which Rust hastily performed, despise Waspinator's protests.

"Oh, stop your whining," Rust growled, dumping the wasp in the CR. "I've just lost a bigger part of my pride, it hurts worse than a broken wing." He activated the machine and started to turn around to go away, when a shot from behind send him to the ground. With a startled growl he rolled, raising his blaster--

--and holstered it back almost immediately.  
"I do not care whether it was a joke, an accident, or his own fault," Megatron growled, picking the blue bot up with his dino-hand. "I don't appreciate the way you're damaging my troops." He slammed Rust against the empty tank, eliciting a small yelp. "It had better not happen again." He tightened dino-jaws slightly. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye, sir," Rust managed to gasp through his squeezed throat.  
"Good."  
And Rust was thrown into CR, where he promptly fell off-line.

***

The repairs didn't take long, as the damages weren't too serious - just bothersome. Waspinator was awake even before the platform rose, and he didn't wait for it to move, he just jumped out and fluttered his wings, spraying the surroundings with opalescent liquid. He was really sick of waking up in the staff. He couldn't count all the times when that happened. Maybe he should start a diary. Maybe something titled "My CR and me". Stupid wolf. As if the Maximals weren't enough. Buzzing grudgingly, Waspinator flew to the door, when a liquid in another CR-tank surged, and its occupant somersaulted over its edge and landed on the floor, shakings himself off.

Waspinator felt his jaw dropping in surprise. "Why Rust in CR-tank too?" he asked before he could stop himself.

The blue bot grinned at him. "Walked into a door," he said with an arch wink. "Now excuse me, I STILL have some recharge to catch up to."  
___________________________________________________________________________

* * *

The small muddy pond near the Axalon had indeed filled with clear rainwater. Tigatron was paddling in it happily, only his neck visible above the surface. Cheetor was considering joining the bigger cat, but he was concerned about depths. He wasn't sure if his beast mode could swim.  
Kittar was lying on the sand, exposing her belly to the sun, trying to ignore the unnerving watery noises. Optimus was reading, Rhinox was sniffing flowers, Dinobot was complaining that it was a folly to leave the base unguarded and waste time like that, Rattrap was commenting that Dino-butt could go back and guard the base, if he was so concerned, Dinobot was ignoring Rattrap... One very peaceful day, right? Right.

* * *

Dry, repaired, warm, rested, happy and off-duty. Rust smiled to himself, stretching on his bunk. Then he rolled over the edge and landed neatly on his feet, grinning like a madbot. Was he good or what? Then his grin changed back to smile, and a very gentle one. He walked to the table and traced the vivid blue petals specked with yellow blotches. In answer to his touch, the flower released its pollen, and the spicy-sweet scent filled the air.  
Mmmmm...  
That's why he loved organic life forms. They were soft, beautiful and full of surprises. Robotics could only look up to them.  
After few cycles Rust with some effort erased the smile from his face and walked out into the bad guys' world.

In a hold on third deck, construction works were nearing completion. Scorponok was putting on some last welds, Blackarachnia run final tests on wiring, and Tarantulas, having done his part first, watched and cackled for no reason every now and then.

Megatron suspected it was just to get on everybody's nerves.

"Tarantulas, report," he said, and with one final chuckle, Tarantulas turned to him.

"It is essentially ready, Megatron. I just need to write a basic shell programming for it and calibrate it. Then, since we already have both Maximal and Predacon behav-programming chips, it _should_ be able to turn a bot from Maximal to Predacon and back. But for the task you wish it to perform, I'll have to prepare specially modified chip." He couldn't help but snicker, thinking of possibilities the Transmuter opened for him. The ancient machinery, redesigned a little by him, properly used, would be a powerful weapon. Megatron didn't even realize how huge mistake he'd done, letting the spider work on it unsupervised... But that was for later. Now he'd have to confirm if the thing worked the way it was supposed to, and the easiest way to do it was to follow Megatron's whims, as silly as they might be... His train of thoughts was brutally derailed by delighted exclamation.

"You've finished it!" Rust surveyed the machine with bright optics, and his hand moved almost by itself--

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" a quartet of voices bellowed.

"I won't break it," he assured them, but no one believed him for some reason.  
"Go to beast mode, Rust," Megatron ordered curtly, and he obeyed with a scowl. Sheesh, one stupid blackout and he was treated like some walking menace.

Tarantulas shook his head in mixed irritation and relief. He had no idea how exactly Rust had managed to fuse half of main power wiring, but the cause was immaterial. It was the result that worried him. Some of parts in transmuter were irreplaceable... He tore his gaze away from the wolf and turned back to Megatron. "About the programming - do you have any special demands?"

The purple bot glanced at the scientist. Even though so far that annoying cackle was the only suspicious thing the spider did, the centuries of experience were telling Megatron that this here was a bot one should be wary of. But the main principle of being wary of someone was to never let them know you're being wary.

So he smiled and responded in his most pleasant and casual tone o voice. "If you could get rid of that annoying sense of honor..."  
"I'm afraid that's impossible. That is a trained trait, and as such cannot be affected without altering other skills."  
Megatron sighed inwardly. He didn't really count on it, but it would certainly make his life easier. "In that case, a simple obedience program would do, yess."  
"The obedience programs are never simple, as you surely know, leader," Tarantulas retorted probingly, with a meaningful glance at the wolf, who was trotting around the Transmuter, bothering Scorponok with questions how exactly, but _exactly_, this thing worked.

Megatron studiously looked away, not bothering to hide a smirk. He knew perfectly well what the spider was implying. Half the crew was suspecting that he'd somehow tampered with Rust's programming. He had no intention of confirming or denying that rumor.

Tarantulas was staring intently at Megatron's face, and was quite displeased when he couldn't read anything from it. Rust was still a mystery for him, and he hated mysteries. They were hard to control. He had a few theories, but he needed more data, and since he didn't get them from Megatron, why not try the weak link?  
He turned to the wolf with a mischievous smirk.  
"You seem to be very enthusiastic about Transmuter, Rust. Maybe you could be our first test subject?"  
The wolf perked his ears. "Sure!" He jerked his head to Megatron. "Can I?"

"No!"

"Awww..."

The disappointed grunt had no effect on Predacon leader's decision, but the triumphant glint in Tarantulas's visor had. "Not _first_, anyway, noo. We wouldn't want you to get your processor wiped, or have you stuck with improper programming, would we. You may try it _after_ we know for sure it works."  
The wolf brightened. "Cool!"

Tarantulas sniggered quietly.  
_Nice try, leader, but too late_.  
Now he knew for sure there was something wrong with Rust's programming. The question remained, what.

He was to wait for quite a long time before discovering this... and it was certainly not what he expected.

* * *

Kittar rolled to her side, with a little noise of content. Then she raised her head and looked around sleepily. She smacked her lips few times. She decided that she was thirsty and considered whether getting up and going to the pond was worth the effort. She decided it was.

Black, beady eyes glinted roguishly at the sight of a red cat craning its neck to lap at the water without stepping in it. The eyes' owner looked around to check if anyone was watching. No one was. A smile that could scare a mass murderer appeared.

The Maximals didn't see it happen, but they definitely heard it.  
A very loud SPLASH.  
A very loud, outraged SCREAM.  
A very loud, triumphant LAUGHTER.  
A very loud, furious HISS.  
A very loud, desperate "HEEEEEEELP!!!!!!"

They all jumped to their feet, and witnessed a quite unsettling sight.  
The rat running as fast as his short paws could carry him, screaming for help at the top of his voice, with a dripping wet cat on his heals, screaming and hissing madly, slashing at him with murderous intentions.

Optimus was the first to go to the rescue, and he got a set of scratches all over his arms for his troubles, while a ball of slashing madness went on with pursuit. Rhinox moved to block its way, and received few scratches on his back, as it jumped over him. Dinobot with an angry snarl jumped in front of it and hoisted it by the scurf of its neck, and it suddenly went limp. Amber eyes looked up at Dinobot, as if asking 'whaaat?'.

"What's WRONG with you, cat?" he asked angrily.

"I'm WET! He threw me in the water! I'm wet! I hate water! Water! Wet! Hate!"  
Amazing, how much passion, outrage, disgust, and hurt complaint she managed to put in these three simple words. Dinobot dropped her with a contemptuous snarl, and she immediately started licking herself, trying to get rid of the despised substance.

Optimus sighed heavily, covering his face with hands.  
_I have the weirdest crew in the galaxy, and half of it is trying to scrap the other half. What by the Pit should I do?_

_No_, he decided shaking his head. _I will take care of this tomorrow. I don't know how to take care of this anyway_.

Hidden under the broad leaves of a convenient plant, Rattrap peeked out carefully. Well, he'd got a reaction. Not exactly what he'd expected, but maybe it would teach the cat not to mess with this rat. He hissed, as all the scratches (and they were more like wounds, really) flared up. Oh well, he thought, nursing the particularly nagging one, the look on her face just before she hit the water was worth it.

* * *

Chapter edited on 20.11.2009.


	6. Confrontations

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here.

**Spoilers**: Very tiny ones for "The Probe" and "Victory"

**A/N: **The spoiler for 'The Probe' is tiny, because, due to OC's presence, Tarantulas day routine had been slightly altered, which caused him to look at a monitor just at the right time, which caused him to detect the probe faster than in canon, which caused the whole episode to go differently. Here, check it out yourself:

part six

Confrontations  
_The Maximals finally meet Rust face to face, and Megatron discovers Kittar. Oh, and the probe from Cybertron comes and goes. And everyone's fighting - one way or another._

.

.

Optimus frowned at the sight of a fresh paint on Rattrap's door. If Cheetor was fooling around again... There was enough tension in the air as it was... But as he came closer, he realized that the letters were in rat-bot's handwriting. He read the message and laughed.

Yesterday Kittar had come back after two solar-cycles' absence, and immediately discovered that one of energon feeders from 'her' Med Bay was missing. She went straight to Rattrap's quarters and searched it with such vigor that things were flying. Rattrap walked in on that, and there was a very intense confrontation, which ended with Kittar running through the base with the recovered feeder in her mouth, and Rattrap pursuing her and screaming that he really hoped it was true about cat's lives, 'cause he had already thought up more than nine suitable cat's deaths.

Shaking his head with a smile, Optimus moved along, leaving behind a warning sing.

NO PREDATORS ALLOWED  
THIS MEANS **YOU**!!!

* * *

"One hundred and twenty and six energon crystals."

"Stop that."

"One hundred and twenty and seven energon crystals."

"Stop that."

"One hundred and twenty and eight energon crystals."

"Stop tha--"

**I trust everything is going well?** a deep voice came through the comlink.

"I officially ask for permission to kill Rust," a screechy voice responded.

Megatron's face screwed up strangely in effort to frown and raise optic ridges at the same time. "Rust?" He inquired. "I hope you remember our little chat?"

**I didn't do anything!**

**He's driving me crazy!**

**Rust only counting cryzztals, Megatron**

Waspinator was secretly delighted. Before Rust, Terrorsaur was relieving his stress pulling stupid pranks on everyone who couldn't very well repay him, namely Waspinator and Scorponok, and having someone annoying the slag out of him was a feast. Even if that someone was Rust.

**Sort that between yourselves, you two. All that interest me is that you come back with a full load, yess.**

"We sure will, sir!"

**I hope so. Megatron out.**

"Sort between ourselves, he says," Terrorsaur muttered. He glanced sidelong at the wolf. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.

"One hundred crystals lying on the ground," he crooned.

Rust shuddered. "Stop that!"

"One hundred crtystaaaaaaaals lying on the grooooound!"

"STOP THAT!"  
"But if one smaaall crystal would somehow go baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang--"

"Arrrghh!" stifling the chuckle, Rust lunged for the red bot.

"There'd be ninety niiiiiiiiine crystaaals lying on the groooound!!!!"

Waspinator settled back and watched the wolf chasing the pterodactyl, who teasingly flew just above his reach. After a while the wasp-bot retrieved an orange from sub-pocket. He munched on it, listening to a nice little song and bursts of laughter alternated with mild curses and snapping. It looked like a fine day.

* * *

Hidden in his secret lair, Tarantulas grumbled. The codes he was currently working on were being particularly stubborn. He intended to include a little catch in an obedience program for Transmutor, a catch that would, in due time, allow him to shift affected bot's loyalty from Megatron to himself at a mere voice command. That in itself was a difficult task, made even harder by the fact that he was sure that Megatron would want to verify the codes, and he had to ensure that he wouldn't detect this little improvement.

Blinking tiredly, the spider glanced longingly at the screens across the cave. He could use an _intelligent_ conversation... He scowled at his own thoughts. He was a Predacon, he didn't need anyone! But he couldn't stop himself from peeking at the screens from time to time, and thanks to it, he noticed a small blob that appeared on his space radar. It disappeared almost immediately, but since he'd discovered alien influences on this planet, every signal from space was making him jumpy. He hurried over to the console, converting all available energy to scanners, changing frequencies, and finally identifying the mysterious object. And then he leaned back in his chair. "This is interesting..."

* * *

Rust had cracked at the 'Eeeeighty eight littleeee cryyyyyystaaaals', fell to the ground with all paws in the air, and whined for mercy - not for himself, but for the innocent little tune, which never deserved that torture. Terrorsaur, still in the air, had made him ('...if oooone smaaaaaaaall...') to swear to not annoy, attack or do anything else unpleasant to him for the whole week. He would have bargained for more, but the wolf sternly said that he should 'take what he can, or else Rust won't lift a finger for the rest of the day, and let's see whose head Megatron will have on a platter if they don't come back with a full load'.

So now, few hours later, they were going back, Rust dragging a loaded sledge and complaining about Terrorsaur's location.  
"Get up, slaggit, you can _fly_ back you lazy dactyl!"  
The pterodactyl in question made himself more comfortable on the top of the platform.  
"Make me," he challenged. Rust muttered some curses to Terror's amusement. "You will rue the day you told us you always keep your word."

"I should of bitten my tongue," the wolf muttered. "I could of lied, you know," he added a little louder.  
Terrorsaur gave a very nice impression of Tarantulas's cackle. "Well, we'll test it."  
"Eh. Next week at 11:43 you'd better be watching your bac-" Rust fell silent abruptly and lifted his nose.

_Sniff. Sniff sniff, sniff_.  
Ears perked, eyes lit, the wolf pointed. "Maxis!"

***

Ever since the memorable fight at the energon dale, Maximals always mined in at least four-person parties. Today was no different. Between customary Dinobot/Rattrap quarrels and calling for Cheetor to come back and leave that alone, whatever that was, Optimus was already developing a headache, and they hadn't even reached the mining area yet!  
_It would be so much easier if I didn't have to care... Blast the rank's responsibilities_...

***

Rust watched the four Maximals, crouched low and shivering in excitement. "So what do we do?" he asked automatically, and a moment later mentally slapped his forehead. _Would you **please **pay attention to whom you speak to, bonehead?_  
Terrorsaur glanced at him strangely. "You're asking me?"  
_Well, go on, think of something, genius_...

"You're the one claiming you'd make a decent leader--"

"A great leader," Terrorsaur corrected under his breath.

"--so here's your chance. Besides, I'm in for improvisations, not plans."  
"All right... so go and improvise some way to lure them away, while me and Waspinator take the sledge back to base."  
"Pffft! You're sending one soldier against four without back-up? With such tactics you'd get us all killed in a week! You've just lost my vote." There was a brief argument about democracy, and orders, and who should give them to whom, and finally Waspinator lost his patience.

"Wazzpinator thinks stupid-bots should watch out for Maximalzz."

Both adversaries looked up and hissed in surprise. "When did they come so close?" Terrorsaur whined. Rust was more practical. "Hide the platform," he hissed and departed.

***

"Hey, Maxis! Feeling like Pred hunting today?!"  
All four of them maximized reflexively, and the wolf laughed. "I guess you are! So let's go!" He dashed away, but stopped when no one followed. "What, you need a written invitation or something?" He terrorized and sent few shots for encouragement. That did it. He laughed and dived for cover.

Optimus's and Dinobot's heads were rotating frantically in search for other Predacons, but it was Rattrap who saw a movement out of the corner of his optic. He turned, shot, and hit Waspinator the same moment someone else scored at Terrorsaur's chest, and both flyers slammed into each other before falling down and out of sight. Grinning widely, Rattrap gave the other shooter thumb up before he realized who it was, and was vaguely shocked when Dinobot returned the gesture.

***

**Defragmenting rusted slag!** Rust's worried cursing filled the comlink. **You two all right?!**

"Wazzpinator functional."  
"You better worry for yourself."  
**Phew. Sure thing. See ya home.**

***

"Ey, you there! Rust! Yer pals are down, so ya may as well give up already!"

The wolf's silhouette appeared on a distant boulder.

"Yer from Breglay, rat?" There was a surprise and amusement in wolf's voice. "I didn't know they had any Maxis on Breglay!" He disappeared before anyone could hit him. Few nano-kliks later he appeared again, bot-mode this time, shooting. "Or maybe yer not a Maxi at all?" Shot, shot. "A Pred in disguise, huh?" Shot, shot, dodge, shot, cover.

The 'cover' proved necessary, 'cause Rattrap squeaked in outrage and started shooting like mad.

Rust chuckled. _So here's what makes you tick, ratty_. He concentrated on his spark, checking his comrades' position, and sneaked in opposite direction. Now, only to keep Maxis interested for a few cycles... hehehe.

"Here, preddy, preddy, preddy!"

"Shuddup!" Rattrap was practically foaming at his mouth, his blaster's barrel overheating.

"Aww, did I blow yer cover? I'm SO sorry!" And to emphasize just how sorry he was, Rust shot Rattrap's gun out of his hand.  
"Gee, you dropped something!"  
"Arrrrgh!!!"

After that Rust beastmoded and just ran. He didn't have to worry about keeping Maximals' attention anymore. It was shaking them off (well, Rattrap, really. The rest were more concentrated on stopping the mad rat-bot) that gave him trouble.  
____________________________________________________________________________

The platform shook suddenly and the pair of flyers dragging it turned with startled yelps. They looked straight into weary green eyes.

"I'm _not_ moving," Rust mumbled, curled in a ball and fell asleep.

* * *

Tarantulas was swiveling his chair, considering his options. He WANTED to get out of this mud-ball, and here was a chance. He could let the Maximals contact the probe. He could even contact it himself, and without difficulty, as he had much better equipment at his disposal.  
But then what?  
He could surrender to the Maximals, but before the ship from Cybertron arrived it was too risky (what if it never showed up?), and after that they most probably wouldn't accept it. He could reveal his true identity, but once again - it was risky. They didn't have to believe him, and he had no proof. So he would be captured and treated just like the rest of Megatron's crew. True, once back on Cybertron he _could_ contact PSP central and hope they would speak for him... but PSP didn't need officers who needed help. And while his status there USED to be quite high, his current rank was so low he was practically saluting up to traffic-bots.

He shivered in hatred as he remembered that.  
And the object of this hatred was another problem.  
The aliens. Their artifacts were here, and it was a good bet they would eventually turn up themselves. And then...  
But on the other hand, PSP officers who ended up in Maximal jail tended to have a very short life span. Sometimes it was so short that they never reached the prison.

Tarantulas's pincer touched the button.  
The aliens would eventually come... but 'eventually' can be a very long time.

* * *

After they'd lost track of Rust and calmed Rattrap down to the point when he stopped growling incoherent curses, Optimus decided they should go back. They went in a heavy silence. They've never seen Rattrap so furious before, and no one knew how to react, and since the rat was radiating grim silence, they followed the suit. Axalon loomed into view when Rattrap finally spoke.  
"Ya were sayin' he's such a menace, and he looks like all bark no bite ta me, Lizard-breath."

Dinobot snarled, half annoyed and half glad that the rat was back to normal. "He had successfully driven us away from our task, and sustained no damage. That's more than any other of Megatron troops could achieve, except, perhaps, Tarantulas."  
"Nah, he just lucked out, and besides, it didn't do us any harm, so..."

The rather mild argument continued till they reached Axalon, and then the whole episode was forgotten.

Maximals crowded excitedly around Rhinox, asking questions and crying out encouragements. None of them noticed that Dinobot slowly backed away from the control room, frowning slightly. When he was safely out of the others' sight, he leaned against the wall, closing his optics. A probe from Cybertron. Cybertron, where Predacons were allowed only unarmed and under the tutelage of so called immigration officers. Cybertron, which he last saw four centuries ago, during one of brief campaign victories. Cybertron, where he was a wanted criminal.

"We're going home!" he heard Cheetor's excited voice.  
_What home?_ he thought bitterly. Something furry rubbed against his legs and amber eyes looked up at him questioningly. He looked away and shook his head sharply.  
_I want to be left alone_.

The red cat walked away.

_OK._

* * *

Megatron shook off a patch of rust that landed on his arm, and growled under his breath. After four days of pretending that he couldn't hear Scorponok's more and more urgent complaining, the tyrant finally decided to inspect the crack threatening to split the ship's hull in half. It looked about as bad as Scorponok claimed it was. They were discussing the possible ways to remedy that, when Megatron received a message from Tarantulas.

Few cycles later the comlinks and intercom speakers livened up.

**All Predacons, report to the control room!**

* * *

A zoom in on Axalon.  
A zoom in on Maximals swarming around it.  
A zoom in on a load of long-range signal array components.  
A zoom out.

Megatron put the binoculars down and beastmoded.

"They are preparing for departure to more suitable location, yess. Tarantulas, how long before the probe will be positively out of range again?"  
"About three mega-cycles, Megatron."  
"Rust, where's the nearest best place for building long range comm array?" He knew this well enough himself, but he wanted to know how well Rust used the rainy afternoon few days back. The wolf tilted his head. "You mean, a high spot, with no obstacles around, and relatively low energon field level?"  
Megatron nodded.

"That would be... the clearing at 2-4-6/3-2-3 grid omega, the plains in the middle of grid zeta or that hill at 1-6-6/5-6-4 grid tetra. All in our territory." He grinned archly. "Maxis are sitting on the largest energon deposits around. Pity for them it's unstable".  
"And lucky for us, yess." Megatron smiled to himself. Good wolf. Did his homework. "With the load, it would take them about one mega to reach any of these locations, which leaves two mega-cycles to build the relay and send the signal, yess." He frowned. "More than enough time. Let us make sure they won't be able to use it." He turned to look at his soldiers considerately. "Rust, Terrorsaur. You will go first and disable autoguns guarding the south-east area. After that shift to the west and open fire at Maximals, luring them in that direction."  
"Aye sir."  
"Sure."

"Tarantulas, Scorponok. Make your way undetected to the relay array and blow it up."  
"Yes, Megatron."  
"But of course, leader."

"Blackarachnia, you will provide cover fire for them if necessary."  
"Of course, Megatron."  
"Waspinator..." The wasp buzzed expectantly. "You and I will provide cover fire for Rust and Terrorsaur, and then join the fight." _And don't get yourself scrapped again_.

"Yezz, Megatron."

"Good. Let us move closer. We begin on my signal."

* * *

"...you to watch our backs," Optimus said. The snow tiger nodded. "No Predacon will bother you on my watch, Optimus," he said with a small smile, and departed.

***

Reptilian eyes narrowed. The cat was heading straight for the two scientists.  
"Rust, go!" Megaron hissed into his comlink. "Blackarachnia, take him down! I don't want him behind our backs."

Blackarachnia measured the target, and with a nasty smile loaded a venomous dart in her launcher.

***

Kittar jumped at the sudden growl of pain. She was at the Axalon at the time, but she was out and running before any other Maximal reacted. "Come on!" she yelled, pulling Cheetor's arm as she passed by him, and he followed. They managed to make about four steps, before all the Pit broke loose.  
"INNNCOMIIIING!!!!!!!!!!!" howled a voice from above. Maximals' heads involuntary jerked up, to see something blue and gray dropping from the sky, and then the explosions started.

* * *

Rust howled an impromptu battle scream letting go of Terrorsaur's feet, and outstretched both arms in the nearest autogun's direction, shooting grenades from both launchers and taking another aim immediately.

He hit the ground and rolled, laughing out loud. Four autoguns were falling around in little pieces, and one went wild, showering the whole area with fire. But it was only doing it for half a cycle, before Rhinox annihilated it.

Rust whistled admiringly. Wow, one nasty gun there… No, wait, there were two of them…

And still five more autoguns that could give them trouble. They were Terrorsaur's job, but to give the flyboy a clear shot...

"Come on, Maxis! What's with you?! I'm right here, come and shoot me!" And he laughed mockingly at the rain of fire power it brought. "Oh, come on, you can do better!" He ducked behind a boulder, then jumped at the top of it. "Are you lot drunk or something?" He jumped at the other rock, feeling the volley of blasts singeing the fur on his back.

"You haven't hit me once yet!"

"He's nuts," Terrorsaur muttered up above Rust's head. But he was also providing diversion, concentrating autodefences' and Maximals' firepower on himself. The red flyer dived rapidly behind defenders' backs, shoulder cannons ready. Flying just above the ground, he took out four more autoguns before anyone noticed what was happening.

***

Optimus cursed under his breath, and took off, shouting orders. "Dinobot, look out for the rest of Predacons! Rhinox, guard the array!" He didn't need to tell Rattrap to take down Rust, the rat was doing his best to do just that, and by the looks of it, he was pretty dedicated to the task. Optimus started towards Terrorsaur, but didn't get a chance to even go near him.

Rust saw Optimus heading to intercept the dactyl-bot, and his optics narrowed. _Oh no you don't!_ His blaster jumped up and barked three times, the same moment when some distance behind him a laser whined.

Optimus yelped and turned in midair when a purple laser hit him in the back, and three energy shots seared past his audio.

"Smeltpit!" Rust commented. But through the noise of firepower he'd heard a worried exclamation, so he searched the area for its source, and grinned, sending a high-powered 'hallo' to a yellow-blue young bot, who exposed himself foolishly.  
The yellow-blue bot went down, and Rust went to another target.

"Hey, you need a target practice, rat-bot?!"  
Rattrap growled, leaned, shot, and hid. Rust copied the motion.  
Rattrap got a singe on his helmet, Rust got a singed dent on his arm. He shook in silent laughter. His spark was pulsing like mad, mech-fluids were rushing through his frame, and he felt positively drunk. That, THAT was what he lived for. That was what he could die for.

"You can't do better than this?!" he screamed, jumping from behind the cover and on the sad remains of an autogun. "Come and get me!"  
But then he noticed Rhinox moving to the massive heap of array parts, and he couldn't allow that. The arachnids were there! But how to lure the big guy away? AHA!

"HEY, RHINO! Wanna bet I'll get to the tiger before you?!"

With a sharp gasp, Rhinox glanced at the prone form of Tigatron, lying way out of his reach, the wolf already racing toward him. He had no chance to get there first. But he tried anyway.

***

Tarantulas breathed out. For a few nanos he was much closer to Rhinox's chain guns than he'd ever wished to. Luckily, the green bot didn't look down in the crevice they were hidden in. "Now," he hissed to Scorponok, and they both scurried under the carts and busied themselves with mining them.

***

Megatron nodded approvingly at Rust's strategy.  
"Flyers, keep Optimus busy!" he ordered. "Blackarachnia, stay hidden!" He wanted to have at least one undamaged soldier at the reserve. He didn't join the battle either, contenting himself with sending single, well aimed shots every now and then. His focus was entirely on the array. He saw few small movements there, so he knew his scientists were at work…

***

Rust run up to the poisoned tiger and one sniff told him who it was. The rain Maxi.  
"Nice SEEING you," he laughed, terrorized and put a blaster to tiger's head. "Bye!" But before he could pull the trigger, something hit his hand, making him drop the gun. With a startled yelp he glanced first at the blade pierced through his wrist, and then at an angry blur, currently rushing straight at him at high speed. He dodged, avoiding getting hit in the face with a yellow helmet, caught the attackers arms and got kicked in the most sensitive part of his chest plate, where his beast mode's nose was. He yelped, growled, and tossed the little nuisance away, but not before it hit him in the left shoulder, and he suddenly couldn't feel his arm. It cut his shoulder joint wires! What WAS that?!

***

Rhinox hadn't had a chance to reach Tigatron in time, but he was not the only bot who rushed to his rescue. Kittar was on her way from the very beginning of the battle, not paying any attention to it. Her mind was set on the task in hand – someone was wounded and she needed to get to him. She was dashing from cover to cover in her beast mode, and when Rust howled his challenge, she was just a few meters away. She attacked the much bigger bot without a second thought.  
_NO ONE messes with my patients_!

***

Rust stared at the small femme incredulously. She landed on her feet, crouched, and HISSED at him, before swinging her arm, and he barely dodged another knife. With a growl he feinted charging at her, and when she raised her arm again, he ducked for his blaster. He didn't reach it. Something, maybe instinct, maybe spark, or maybe just a swish of air warned him to bend backward, and a rotating sword merely shaved some fur off his chest, instead of cutting him in half. He landed heavily on his back. He didn't waste time for catching his breath or yelping. The reflex as old as the 'catch the falling object' one kicked in. When you fall, you must MOVE.

Dinobot snarled, a little surprised by the swift evade, but he didn't miss a beat. He raised his sword, changed a hold on it, and brought it down with a force that should pin his adversary to the ground. The operative word – should. It WOULD, if Rust had the grace to stay where he'd fallen. As it was, Dinobot received a forceful kick in the knee, and a handful of dirt in the optics, while Rust rolled away, cursing at the burning scratch on his back and a numb arm.

Still on the ground, he reached for his blaster. Slag that femme, why she had to disable his _left_ arm? With the right one he was much less-- Yiiiiks! He jerked his hand back and rolled away, as a volley from chain guns rattled the dirt between him and his gun.  
"I've won anyway!" he screamed in green bot's direction. "And you're a poor looser!" he added, jerking a long knife out of sub-pocket to block a sword falling on his head. "And you too!" he laughed in a blue, scowled face. Then he kicked Dinobot in the lowest part of a chest-plate, using the force of the action to roll over his head and finally get to his feet. Judging by the wince on Dinobot's face, the kick was as painful for him as it had been for Rust. The wolf-bot grinned widely. _Thanks for a new trick, femme_!

***

Rhinox didn't even shake his head at the mocking exclamation. He had much more pressing matters to attend to. "I'll take him!" he yelled in Kittar's audio. She glanced up at him from above Tigatron she was dragging, nodded, and run to the fallen form of Cheetor.

***

Optimus shot at Terrorsaur dancing around him, and risked a quick glance at the Maximals below.

Dinobot in a melee fight with Rust.

Dodge, dodge, shot.

Rhinox running to Axalon with Tigatron in his arms.  
Shot, shot, shot.

Kittar bent under the weight of Cheetor... Cheetor?! When did he get hi-- "Argh!" The Pred flyers took advantage of his momentary distraction. No, correction, _Waspinator_ did. The hit in itself wasn't all that bad, but after a nano-klik the burning sensation started to spread through his circuits. Optimus gained altitude and rained the wasp-bot with fire. Honestly, to get shot by _Waspinator_... Good thing it was in the foot.  
Out of the corner of his optics he saw a speck of purple moving...

***

Rattrap was angry, frightened and excited all at once. He couldn't shot at Rust, 'cause Dinobot, how wise of him, was constantly getting in his line of fire. He couldn't shot at Waspinator, 'cause Optimus was doing the same. Terrorsaur was fidgeting like an epileptic, Megatron was hiding, and the rest of Preds were nowhere to be seen. He felt in his frame there was something amiss, and the impossibility to pin it was driving him crazy.  
"Are they OK?" he shouted at Rhinox, as he passed him.  
"They will be," Kittar shouted back, pulling Cheetor on the lift.

_BEEP_ **Rattrap! Megatron at 1-6-1!**

***  
Megatron decided to move closer, and as he started running, his comlink activated, and Scorponok reported that they were ready, just say a word, Megatron, and with just one missile-- and at that moment few things happened. Waspinator got shot few times and fell down with a scream (_can't that idiot dodge_?), one of wasp's projectiles hit Terrorsaur in the middle of his back-plate, and the red flyer wisely landed before his jets went out, (_keep shooting, you worm_!) and Optimus whirled in the air, and headed straight at the two scientists' position. Megatron opened fire at him immediately, (_to far, slag it_!), and his gaze brushed over Rust.

Rust, who was at the moment trying to prevent Dinobot from converting him into a shish kebab.

Rust, who heard Waspinator's scream.

Rust, who saw Terrorsaur's fall.

Rust, who started seeing red.

Rust, whose comlink beeped.

**Rust! Take Optimus down!**  
And that was all Rust needed. Dinobot suddenly found himself without an opponent.

Rattrap was busy shooting at Megatron, (with success, at that), when something howled wildly, and he caught a glimpse of gray fur and white teeth, that tore out a piece of metal from his arm in passing. With a pained shout, Rattrap sent a volley of shots after the wolf, as well as a volley of well chosen words. The derisive snigger was the only reaction hr got.

Dinobot growled in outrage. "Come back here, coward!" he screamed, shooting laser at the wolf's tail. He was about to pursue, when a buzz from behind distracted him. He turned to see Waspinator, shaking his head and moaning. "Worthless bug," he snarled with contempt, readying to shot him, not bothering to shield himself in any way. Bad, bad move. 'Cause Waspinator was frightened, and angry, and in pain, and he just happened to fall directly on Rust's forgotten blaster. In his hands, and at the range of just few meters, it looked almost as a space-ship cannon. Dinobot was very lucky indeed that the wasp-bot wasn't familiar with the weapon, and squeezed out a volley of low-power shots instead of one concentrated blast.

***  
Rust raced straight at the last working autogun. It turned to shoot at him, of course, but he didn't much care. He transformed, jumped, dived, landed on his back (again!) and kicked up at the machine's barrel, forcing it upwards. It stayed there just for a nano-klik, but that was all he needed. His plan was very simple.

He smash-opened the cover of autogun's circuitry. He thrust his hand inside and squeezed the thing that looked like a power converter. (It was). He yelped, shaking his hand (_Way to go, genius, now you have _no_ hands to work with_!) and flung his arm around the cannon's barrel, forcing it upwards again, and in the general direction of Optimus. Precise aiming was practically impossible, and, to be honest, unnecessary, as with the damaged power converter, the gun went utterly wild.

***  
Optimus had noticed two arachnids crawling out of the crack in the ground, noticed that the crack was leading almost straight to the relay array so much depended on, and he suddenly realized what was the point of the whole attack. He rushed toward them desperately, dimly registered some shouting below, and then the air suddenly shook around him.

***  
The power converter was a very important part of a gun. It was, surprise, surprise, converting the energy Axalon provided into concentrated, single blasts. With the converter damaged, the autogun started spitting the almost continuous flow of raw energy. Being at the wrong end of it, and much closer than it was healthy, Optimus had no chance. He went off-line long before he hit the ground.

***

Crouching behind a boulder, only his visor visible, Tarantulas poked Scorponok's arm. "Shoot now," he murmured.

***

Rust was howling in pain. The rusted autogun didn't want to cooperate; it was trashing and trying to break free from his embrace. And as if it wasn't enough, it started to short-circuit all over, shocking him nastily, but still he was holding it, doing his best to keep the energy flow on the falling form of maximal leader. The machine started cracking dangerously, long tentacles of energy dancing around it. It would probably blow up even if Rattrap didn't send a shot straight into its exposed wiring.

It was really a sight. It would win every Synchronized Blowing Things Up contest, if anyone would organize such thing. The blast from Rattrap's gun reached its target the same moment Scorponok's missile did.  
The audience was speechless. Mostly because it was temporarily deafened, but that's just a minor detail. Let's not pick at minor details.

Terrorsaur screeched, hurling himself to the ground and covering his head, as rain of sharp metal splinters started to fall around. After a few nanos he got up stumblingly, wondering what was that strange noise he was hearing. Then a limp, charred form landed right at his feet and the tormented howl ended abruptly.

_BEEP_ **Predacons, fall back! Flyers, bring Rust!**  
Terrorsaur looked frantically around, and saw Waspinator running in his direction, hugging a large blaster to his chest. Without a word, each of them caught one of Rust's arms and run away, dragging him behind, followed by an angry whine of Rhinox's chain guns.

***  
Rhinox had dropped down the lift shaft as soon as everything stopped shaking. He ignored a cat landing on his head, and raised his guns to send after retreating Preds a very definite 'and stay out!'.

Kittar jumped down from green shoulders and raced from one bot to another, checking on them.

Functional.  
Functional.  
Not functional.

"Rhinox!"  
____________________________________________________________________________

Megatron lowered the binoculars, absentmindedly rubbing scorch marks on his chestplate. "Who IS that cat?" he growled quietly.  
"Someone new, obviously," an unmistakable voice responded. This time, there was more than a trace of mockery in it. Megatron narrowed his optics and glared at the approaching spider, but he decided to let it pass. This time.  
"Good work, Predacons," he said, patting Waspinator's shoulder and moving to bend over Rust. He was really pleased. Mission accomplished, three Maximals out cold, and only one of his soldiers severely damaged. "What is his status?"  
Scorponok looked up from Rust's open chest cavity, and clicked his claws worriedly. "It looks bad, Megatron. May not make it."  
The purple bot frowned. It wouldn't do to loose an able soldier, no. He knelt beside Rust. "Tools," he demanded.

Waspinator felt faint with shock. Megatron had commended him! Well, all of them actually, but... He looked at their leader, working with Scorponok on worst damages in Rust's circuitry, and buzzed quietly. _Wow_. A sudden cackle made him jump. He glanced suspiciously at Tarantulas. The spider was staring at nothing, as far as he knew, though it was sometimes hard to tell with all those eyes. After a while Waspinator shrugged and lost interest. The spider was often chuckling for no reason.  
____________________________________________________________________________

A small arachnoid crawled near to the group of Maximals, crowded around Optimus.  
"It looks bad."  
"That's an understatement of a century, Big Green! And don't ya even dare to say anythin' stupid, Scale-bell-- what da Pit happened to ya?"  
Dinobot sent Rattrap an angry, though one-opticed, glare. He was looking as if someone had spread a string of firecrackers across his face and chest and then fired it. "I have been in battle, you slow processored pestilence!"  
"Hey! Ya watch--"  
"QUIET."  
They all looked at Kittar. She pointed one of long metal splinters sticking out of Primal's chest. "Rhinox, pull that out."  
"It could kill him, his main energon vesse--" the technician started to protest.

"NOW." She didn't shout. She just put so much stress on the word, that Rhinox pulled the splinter out before he realized what he was doing. The tips of Kittar's fingers opened, revealing a set of small, delicate tools. Rattrap could only gape as they blurred inside open wound, tying, bonding and welding. After a while she pointed another splinter. "This one."

This one.  
Hold it.  
Help me here.  
Move it.

Rattrap shook his head. _She's worse than Chopperface on a bad day_.

_At least she knows what she's doing_, Dinobot thought approvingly, scanning their surroundings for any suspicious movement. It would be much more advisable to return inside Axalon, but Kittar had very definitely said 'NO TIME', so they were still outside, vulnerable to attacks, if Predacons decided to come back.

Kittar was working silently, her processor spinning just as fast as her fingers.  
Both CRs are taken, Tigatron in the better one, he has to stay there, Cheetor's repairs can be interrupted, Optimus will go in that old piece of junk, it will first focus on protecting the spark, the damage to his external circuitry was steadily progressing, by the time CR is done with the spark, the remaining devastation will be so extensive the repairs will take solar-cycles, she needs to trick the stupid machine into overlooking the minor breaks in spark cavity, and to do that…

Rhinox gasped, when Kittar started cutting wires sustaining Primal's spark. "What are you doing?!"  
"A bypass." She calmly attached the wire to hard core circuitry.  
"You can't connect his spark to- -" The green bot reached desperately to stop her. She slapped his hand away. "I know what I'm doing."

* * *

Tarantulas was cackling again. Megatron fought the urge to throw pliers at him. He made sure Rust was stable, and straightened up.  
"Spiders, you will stay here with me. Scorponok, you and flyers will take Rust back to base." His presence should prevent any regretful 'accidents' to Rust or later returning party.  
Megatron retrieved his binoculars again just in time to see the group of Maximals stirring, barely noticing that Tarantulas was cursing under his breath.

* * *

"Done," Kittar announced, raising her head. She frowned suddenly and swung her arm. A dagger swished through the air, pinning a small arachnoid to the ground. "Take him in," she ordered, paying no further attention to the twitching scrap. No one else reacted either. By now they all knew that 'arachnoid hunting' was one of her favorite sports. Almost every time someone approached her outside she was holding remains of one in her muzzle.

As Rhinox carried Optimus to the lift, Rattrap looked around, taking in the size of damages. "Well," he sighed, "hate ta say it, but ya were right, Chopperface."  
"Hnn, I am _always_ right, vermin. But to what occasion are you referring?" Rattrap ignored the taunt. "This Rust can be a problem," he simply said, going to the lift.

They went inside just in time to see Kittar presenting a very sophisticated way of disrupting CR-repairs in progress. Namely, she pulled a plug. Cheetor fell out of the opening machine with a groan, and Optimus was immediately put in his place. And just as Rattrap thought that the worst was behind them, the worst came.

The amber opticed worst.

"Yer not touchin' me!" he shouted, backing away and shielding his arm protectively. Kittar advanced with tools raised.

"This wound needs to be soldered."

"It's just a scratch! Go and mess wit' Cheetor!"  
"He'll be better off with CR, but-"  
"I'll be better off with CR as well!"

"Hnn, Cease this nonsense, cheese-ball, this whining does not befit a soldier."  
"Hey! Mind yer own business, scar-face! Oh, Kittar, see him? HE needs yer attention!"

"Cut it out, you all!" Rhinox blurted out, lifting a transmitter driver off the floor. "We were lucky enough that this was still inside, even without the rest of equipment we _may_ have chance to contact the probe. Kittar, take care of Cheetor, you two - you come with me!"  
Kittar grudgingly let Rattrap escape and turned to Cheetor instead, muttering something about stupid, ungrateful bots, who didn't know when they needed help.

About ten cycles later she was smiling triumphantly, attending to Rattrap's multiplied wounds. "See? If you had your arm functional, you'd be able to protect yourself against Megatron attack, but no, you had to be unreasonable--"

"Oh, shuddup, female," the rat-bot moaned, covering his optics with a free hand.

* * *

Megatron waited for entire three megacycles and then a bit more before returning to base. Unnecessary, as it proved, because Maximals, after the second beating, didn't try again. Finally Tarantulas assured him that the probe was out of reach and on its way back to Cybertron. Which meant they were... 'safe'. The way scientist pronounced the word made Megatron suspicious, but he was in too good mood to dwell on the subject.

At the base they found Terrorsaur and Waspinator dozing in communication room, and Scorponok messing with an active CR-tank with slightly worried expression.  
"Any problems, Scorponok?"  
"Not sure, Megatron. This tank must be broken, it uses up trace metals three times faster than it should."  
"But are the repairs going well?"  
"Yes, Megatron."  
"In that case, simply replenish it, yess. You will check for possible irregularities tomorrow. We've all deserved some rest."

"Yes, Megatron."

* * *

When CR finally removed the last of poison from Tigatron's frame, Kittar ordered Dinobot in. ("Yeah, sure, go and hide, Dino-butt! Why is it me who has to be left on da mercy of Miss Scalpel?" "Shuddup, Rattrap.") Then it was turn for Cheetor, and Rhinox, and finally Rattrap. ("You don't need CR, I've repaired you!" "Like I'm gonna trust that!"). Then they waited. Rattrap went back to messing with game codes, Cheetor was trying to make Tigatron feel at home in an 'artificial structure', Dinobot volunteered to watch monitors, and Rhinox forced Kittar to explain him how exactly her bypass worked, and why it was necessary. With a heavy sigh, she started drawing messy diagrams and energy flow graphs. "...And thanks to that, he'll be up and walking within next two megas, instead of next two solars," she finished. Rhinox remained a little doubtful about that, and Kittar took offense, beastmoded and stalked away.

* * *

_Where the Pit am I_?  
This is a universal question, obligatory asked after waking up from unconsciousness. Finding an answer can be a long, unpleasant and embarrassing process. Fortunately for Rust, none of it was the case this time. Surroundings were familiar.  
_CR. So...not dead yet_.  
He ran the standard check-up.

Legs - checked.  
Arms - checked.

Head - obviously.

Blaster - che--

Rust sat up hastily, splashing and sputtering the CR liquid.

"My gun! Did someone bring back my gun?"  
The answer was silence. Only the stand-by diodes of other CR-tanks blinked at him. He scowled and ran to his room.

"Hey wasp, do you know if someone-- Oh, you brought it! Thanks, man!"  
Waspinator gave a buzzing yelp when Rust snatched the blaster out of his hand and pulled him in a brief hug.

"You have NO idea how much I like this gun," Rust said, beaming and stripping the blaster down to see if it was all right and putting it back together.  
Waspinator decided not to inform Rust that he'd almost dropped the thing into recycle unit by accident. Instead he buzzed a halfhearted 'why'.

"I was custom made, you know. By the best gunsmith I've ever met." Rust was overjoyed to have his favorite toy back, and the good mood made him twice as talkative as normal. "It's based on my own circuitry, so I don't have to worry I'll break it, and see--"

He lifted the blaster in the air with one finger. It rocked a little, and then stabilized in horizontal position.

"--it's perfectly weighted. And the dispersion is less than 0,08 inch at 500 meters range."  
Waspinator tilted his head curiously. "It must been expenzzive," he buzzed.  
Rust smiled strangely, stroking the barrel. "It was," he confirmed a bit wistfully. Then he shook it off and smiled at his roommate. "Wanna try it?" he asked, offering him the gun. "Here is power level control, and here..."

Waspinator happily started messing with buttons, knobs, and switches. It was exactly what he'd been doing when Rust came in, but now he was being told what function of each gadget was, so he didn't have to guess or experiment. Rust, he decided, wasn't so bad after all.  
____________________________________________________________________________

"Did we contact the probe?" were the first words Optimus uttered. The looks on others' faces was the answer enough. He sighed. "What happened? I don't remember much..."  
He listened to the detailed, multi-voiced explanation, thinking. They needed something to equal the chances. Technically, they weren't outnumbered, but... well, there was just no comparing Kittar to Rust. To think of it, there was no comparing _him_ to Megatron either. A Maximal corporal versus Predacon general. Huh! But here he was and he had to think of something. Only what?  
"Processor storm, people! What could help us avoiding getting scrapped like that in the future?"

"We could ask Preds to leave us alone"  
"Or invite them for oil and poisoned cookies."  
"Or threaten that we will sue them and hope they will die of laughing."  
"No, wait, I know! I we can tie the bells to 'em so we hear when they're comin'."  
Rattrap and Cheetor continued like that, but Optimus was looking at Rhinox. "If we _did_ know their movements..."  
"I've already tried to hack their comm codes, didn't work."  
"Something different then, maybe we could access their comm central directly..."

Dinobot stirred. "It would be unreliable; the considerable amount of information goes through personal comlinks." He hesitated. "Maybe the surveillance system..."  
Optimus's optics lit up. "Rhinox? Could you?"  
"Hmmm, not without direct access to it, and I doubt Predacons would let me in."  
"Well, no, but..." Optimus let his voice trail of, as he moved his gaze to look at one specific bot.

The target of his gaze fidgeted uneasily. "I don't like da way yer lookin' at me, Fearless Leader."  
Optimus smiled a bit deviously. "I'm prepared to bet one hundred credits that Predacons are totally off-guard right now..."  
"Na-uh! No way!"  
"They won't expect anything so soon, and besides, didn't you visit them before, Spy Master?"  
Rattrap sputtered, pretending he wasn't flattered at all, but now he was fighting a lost battle, and he knew it.

* * *

The wolf twitched his ear and moved restlessly in his sleep. Then he jerked his head up, awoken and tensed. Something was wrong. But what? A sound? No. A smell? Negative. Hmm.  
He sent his spark senses around, and a quiet growl grew in his voice box. Instead of six distant stars, there were seven.  
He jumped down off his bunk quietly.

***  
_Oh man, oh man, why did I agree to do this again?_  
Rattrap sneaked through the dark corridors, cursing to the Pit his own imagination. It was creating Predacons round every corner.  
_They surely would be resting after the attack, yeah, right! It was US who took the beating, not the other way round! They could be waiting here with a welcome committee for all we know! Man, I really, really hate this_!

***  
The wolf stalked the corridors, his growl so low it was almost an infrasound. His eyes were burning furiously.  
_No one sneaks up on my pack_!

***

**Rust to Megatron. Rust to Megatron, come in, sir!**  
The quiet call interrupted T-rex's sleep. Frowning, he answered.  
"It'd better be important, Rust!"  
**We have an intruder onboard, sir.**  
Megatron stood up abruptly. "How do you know?"  
**He's on the forth level, I can hear him moving. It's not any of the Predacons, they're all where they're supposed to be, I've checked.**  
Then the sound of sniffing filtered through the comlink, and the growl.  
**It's the rat. Shall I take him down?**  
Megatron was thinking quickly. A discovered spy, or maybe saboteur. How could he use it?  
"Not yet, noo. Try to discover his purpose and report. Act only if his actions prove to be of immediate danger."  
**Understood. Rust out.**

***

The surveillance monitor cables were exactly where Dinobot said they would be, attaching a spy transmitter and camouflaging it was a matter of seconds, and now he could get the Pit outta there. He froze for a nano when he perceived the faint smell of wolf's fur. Freeze or run? Freeze or run? He settled for sneaking away. Maybe he was lucky and Rust was only passing near on his way for a midnight snack... He didn't believe it for a cycle. Only when a cold night breeze rustled his fur he breathed out. Phew... Few cycles later he almost got a spark attack, when something jumped at him out of nowhere.  
"Slag!" He forced his spark to leave his throat and go back where it belonged. "What are ya doin' here, cat?"  
"Backing you up," the cat responded, sniffing him up and down for potential injuries and finding none.  
Rattrap scowled. "An' what would ya do if there was trouble, huh? Annoy da Preds to death?"  
"Hnn, She could never outmatch _you_ in that department, rodent. Have you accomplished your task?" Raptor's large form appeared in the darkness.  
"Was that meant to be an insult, Chopperface?"  
"Believe me, if I wanted to insult you, you would know about that, you final result of chain of evolution errors!"

In the darkness of the Predacon base's corridor ten green eyes glinted. They're owners stared at each other for a moment, both surprised that the other managed to surprise him.  
"Well," Tarantulas finally grumbled, "what was so important I had to be dragged away from my work?"  
"The rat. He sneaked in, messed with the cables and left. I can't smell any explosives, but that's about all I can tell. You're the tech-spec around here, go and check what he'd done."  
____________________________________________________________________________

"Well, it's working. Not as well as it could, but we have access to control room cameras, and that's what counts."  
Dinobot snarled. "Why can't we see the transmissions form _all_ cameras? They _should_ be accessible from this cable!"  
"Maybe they've rerouted or shut down some of them after the crash," Optimus offered.

The raptor frowned, glaring at the screen. The control room, the main entrance, few insignificant corridors and an empty hold. There was something amiss, he was sure. Shaking his head, he stalked off to his quarters. Almost in front of it he found a cat. Kittar was sitting in the middle of the corridor, still as a statue. The only part of her that moved was her tail, slashing so quickly it was a blur. Dinobot came closer to see what had upset her so, and snorted at Rattrap's message. Well, this was really childish. Even acknowledging it was below his dignity. It really was. _He_ would never lower himself to a graffiti war. Never.

He tapped his talon lightly and checked if they were alone. _He_ wouldn't even show he noticed. But... He bent down and whispered something into cat's ear.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Cheetor appeared to take his shift on monitor duty in surprisingly good mood. Rattrap glanced at him suspiciously. "What are ya giggling about, kiddo?"  
"Ah, nothing." It would sound more convincing if he hadn't giggled again at the word.  
He watched the monitors for a while and then reset his voice box.  
"Er, have you seen Kittar's door lately?"  
"I don't go in that part of ship," Rattrap said sternly.  
"Aw, come on, it's in the same corridor!"  
"Well, so I don't go in that part of _corridor_."  
"Ah, OK."

Rattrap waited a bit for something more, but Cheetor just watched the monitors with an innocent expression on his face.

Rattrap tapped the keyboard absentmindedly, and then shut the computer down. "See ya in da morning, Spots."

He walked straight to his room, and the door closed behind him with a very definite /thump/. It opened silently after a moment. The rat checked if the coast was clear, waited for a camera to turn away, and sneaked silently down the corridor.

Dinobot, waiting glued to the door, suppressed the snigger. He waited, straining his hearing. He'd be there in 3, 2, 1... He had to admit that Rattrap took the repartee rather well. There was just a quiet, undignified sputter and he went back to his room. Only after a while Dinobot heard a small 'flop, flop, flop' of darts being thrown with force slightly greater than necessary. It was what the rat-bot always did when he was angry but didn't know what to do about it.  
Smirking mischievously, Dinobot rephrased one of Cheetor's favorite lines.

_Predators: one, the pray: zippo_.

***

Cheetor was a bit disappointed that Rattrap hadn't taken the bait and didn't go to check Kittar's door, but oh well... He would see it eventually. He smiled at the message visible through the one of inside cameras.

**All squeaky snacks are welcome  
Feel invited**

* * *

Chapter edited on 20.11.2009


	7. Deception

**Disclaime**r: This is a work of fanfiction. If you are a lawyer employed by any transformer-related company, check the meaning of that word and be on thy way. You won't earn your salary here. But please note:_ Rust and Kittar and other things I've made up myself are mine._**  
Spoilers**: storyline of "Victory"

**A/N**: _I've used a part of the script here, 'cuz, I liked it better than the aired episode; plus, it fitted my storyline._

Part seven

**Deception**  
_This is the part when Predacons die. Really. What, you don't believe me?_

-

-

Optimus on-lined his optics with a groan and checked the time. Four mega-cycles to the sunrise. Most of the crew should be recharging, except for the unlucky bot stuck on monitor duty, so what on Cybertron could be making this clamor?  
By now he was quite used to being woken up by all kind of strange noises, from malfunctioning intercoms to gunfire, but what he was hearing now was really too much! With a heavy sigh he went to investigate.

Following the disturbing sounds of metal screeching on metal, he arrived at the corridor leading to the Med Bay, and hesitated.

This was Kittar's territory. Did he REALLY want to know?

No.  
But as a commander of this group, he had duty to check if one of his crew wasn't being torn to pieces. He bravely went on, to find Kittar dragging a stasis pod.

"Kittar? What are you doing?"

She glanced up at him and continued her task. "We need more CRs."

They needed more CRs, so she was dragging the biggest stasis pod through the corridors in the middle of the night. There must have been some connection there, no doubt, but it was escaping him at the moment. With an internal sigh he prepared himself for a long and tiring interrogation. Pulling information out of the cat was sometimes harder than getting extra funds from the Science&Research Department.

"What does a pod have to do with CR-Chambers?"  
"Parts."_  
Screech, screech,_ protested the pod against the floor.  
Ah.  
"I see. But we may need the pods in the future, and we have two good chambers already."  
Kittar snorted, opening Med Bay door and pulling the pod in. Optimus followed.

Seemed like he wouldn't let her work in peace. Kittar rubbed her face impatiently. Did she have to explain EVERYTHING to them? They. Needed. More. CRs. What was complicated about it?  
"You're getting damaged all the time. There's six of you. I can only do this much. We _need more CR_s."  
"Kittar, the possibility that ALL of us will receive severe damage at the same time is negligible."  
"But still exists. We _really_ need more CRs," she repeated patiently, waiting for the universe to click into the shape she'd like. It usually worked.

And that was it. At the point when she was putting on the 'I can wait forever' expression, there was absolutely no way of getting through to her. Optimus gave up. She did have a point, after all. Though he'd have to ask Rhinox about the technical side of it.

And that reminded him...

It's been three days since the probe came and left, and Optimus still hadn't had a chance to speak with Rhinox in private. He didn't want to make it official, since it really wasn't, so he waited in hope of catching the technician alone. Now was his chance.

He entered the control room to find it deserted, save for Rhinox, sitting in front of monitor. Finally. He opened his mouth to speak, and just then Rattrap came in, yawning and rubbing his neck.  
"Does anyone know what da Pit that noise was?"  
"That would be Kittar on her quest for more equipment."

"Ah," Rattrap commented, losing interest immediately. He glanced at the monitor hooked to Predacons' network - 'spy's eyes', as he called it. "Anything interestin', Big Green?"

"They'd set up an energon refiner in a hold, and it looks like they're trying to improve it."

"I asked 'interestin',' Rhinox! Man, I'm bored! I'd never thought spying on Preds would be so dull." He slumped in front of his favorite computer, putting his feet up. "What would I give fer a nice little night club, wit' a proper roulette, an' a poker tables, an' a crowd of hot femmes!"

_Somehow I know I will regret this_, Optimus thought, but he spoke anyway. "I doubt any self-respecting femme would consider a casino a good place to start relationship."  
"Who says 'bout relationship? An' disrespectful is fine with me," the small bot said with an over-the-top leer.  
Optimus shook his head, trying to decide if he should be amused, irritated or just relieved that Cheetor wasn't here.  
Rhinox rolled his optics. "I've told you thousands times you should change your approach, Rattrap."  
"Hey, it's healthier than yers, Big R!"  
"You'll understand it one day."  
"Doubt it."

That was one of few subjects they could never agree upon. Not that they'd ever really argued about it. They were just demonstrating a mild irritation (Rattrap) and a mild disapproval (Rhinox).  
Optimus watched them, wondering how to shoo the rat-bot away. The idea formed in his mind.  
"If you're so desperate Rattrap, you can always ask Kittar out."  
The small bot sputtered and straightened up in his chair.  
"When the sun goes down an' the galaxy explodes!"  
Primal feigned an innocent amazement. "Why not?"  
"Why NOT!? Are ya kiddin' me?"  
Optimus made a thoughtful face. "Well, I know that she's sometimes difficult to deal with, but if you'd put your mind to it..."  
"Optimus! Are ya-- no, I'm not gonna even _think_ about it, I value my sanity!"  
Optimus barely hide a smirk. It looked like it was working. He threw few more teasing remarks, and Rattrap fled, announcing that he was going to be sick.

Rhinox chuckled softly. "Not that I disapprove, but why did you do this, Optimus? You know he hates her."  
Optimus was laughing as well, but got serious rather quickly.  
_For such a Predacon-hater, he has a surprisingly... predaconish attitude..._  
"I wanted to speak with you alone," he explained. "There's something that bothers me."  
The technician raised his optic ridges. "What is it?"  
"That day when the probe came, we've had a brief encounter with Rust, and he really got on Rattrap's nerves. He said something about--"  
"Breglay. I know."

Ah. That wasn't _exactly_ what he wanted to ask about, but now that it was mentioned...  
"I take it Rattrap told you?" Rhinox nodded. "Well... What IS Breglay?"  
"Rattrap's home colony."  
"Could you be a little more specific?"  
"There's not much to tell, really. It used to be a Co-Social industrial colony, now it's a... well, I don't know _what_ it is, but it's ruled by Predacons."

A Co-Social. During the last century of war, when it got pretty obvious that the Maximals would win, some Predacons, especially civilians, started to surrender en-mass, and someone smart pointed out that they could as well work for the good cause. So most of POWs were sent to colonies and bases where they could work and live a pretty normal life amid the Maximals. On some of Co-Socs it worked pretty well, on some it didn't.  
Optimus nodded thoughtfully.  
"Rust mentioned there were no Maximals on Breglay..."  
"There aren't. Not anymore."  
"I see..."

So. Rattrap was brought up in a mixed society, which slowly became a Predacon society. That would make a lot of things about Rattrap more understandable. Not less annoying, but understandable.

"Thank you for telling me. Now, what else did I-- Ah, yes. Kittar is dismantling a stasis pod to build a CR. Is that possible?"

* * *

Rhinox carefully peeked in the Med Bay.  
"Hallo Kittar. I've heard you're working on..." his voice trailed off. Kittar was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the tangle of gutted interiors of three pods. Some of components were scattered on the floor and the table; behind her back stood something that most probably was the basis for two chambers' frames.  
By the looks of it, she was constructing them with absolutely no blueprints, or even a sketch, adding parts as she went. Rhinox's spark shuddered in horror.

"Do you need help?" he asked weakly. The femme looked at him thoughtfully and nodded. She could do it alone, but with an assistant it would go faster. She tapped the side of a pod.  
"Take out the LQ-D and extract the nanite-sequencer of it."  
She had yet to master the mysteries of social interactions, Rhinox thought, going to the appointed task. Maybe he should try and teach her what the word 'please' means...

* * *

Megatron glanced at the surveillance monitors to make sure that the console he was typing on wasn't visible on them, and sent a text message to the bot who had volunteered to spy on the Maximals' movements.  
--Report, Tarantulas--

Tarantulas blinked at the text that blocked his vision for the moment, then glanced at the screens and opened a private link to the sender.  
"The Maximals are sitting at home, watching cable TV."

The purple bot scowled at the quiet, annoying voice in his audio.  
--What about Tigatron?-- he typed.  
** Hasn't show up so far. I can't follow him _and_ watch the base. **

The spider smirked. Megatron believed he was sitting under a boulder near Axalon somewhere, useful but harmless, while he was in fact sitting in his lair, working on few of his own projects. He was truly a genius. The movement on the screen drew his attention.

** The cats have left Axalon. ** He reported dutifully. After a moment he cackled. ** And Dinobot seems to be babysitting them. **  
--Where are they heading to?--  
** East. **  
--I'll have Rust watch their movements. Remain at your station. Megatron out.--

* * *

"Find out about the cat," Rust murmured thoughtfully, peeking from under the leaves. "Couldn't he be a little more specific?"  
Not that he was complaining. Spying on Maxis was fun, especially those three. First the cat and the cheetah raced, then the cheetah received a punch for winning, then they both received a reprimand for immature behavior, then the raptor detected some prey nearby, and the cheetah commented that THIS was truly immature. He then announced that he wouldn't participate in a massacre and departed.

The cat and the raptor went for a hunt. Rust sighed. He wouldn't mind a small pack hunting... But he couldn't very well join, now could he. He had to content himself with watching.

Sometime later he sniffed at the sad remains of a living being the two had left in their wake and helped himself with a mouthful or two, thinking of what to do next. So far he knew that the new Maxi was a femme with a female beast mode, was fast, didn't like to lose and liked to hunt.  
But while _he_ found the info interesting, he was sure like Pit it wouldn't satisfy Megatron. So, he decided swallowing the last chunk of meat, it was time to do something irresponsible and stupid. Hehehe.

Kittar had found another spider flashlight and stopped to dissect it. Dinobot snarled that he was not interested in wasting time, she said she could find her way back home, and they parted. Kittar sat cross-legged with the arachnoid in hand and started chipping off its plating, straining her hearing for any signs of hostility from her surroundings.

Rust pricked his ears, and his nostrils quivered. Before he didn't have a chance to look at her properly, so now he was making up for it.  
Slender figure, asymmetric face, fiery colors, and an attitude.  
Nice, nice, nice, and nice.  
That would place her on ... hhmmhmmhhmm... the forth place on his 'wanted' list.  
He sneaked closer, and she suddenly beastmoded, jumping to her feet and glaring in his direction. Rust blinked. Did she detect him? But if so, why did she go in a defenseless mode? Weird…

She heard the rustle of leaves and beastmoded. She was feeling much safer, not to mention more comfortable, as a cat. She stared suspiciously at the bushes. A nose poked out of them, shortly followed by a wolf.

"Hi!"  
And what was he grinning about? "What do you want?"  
He tilted his head. "Megs wanna know who you are."  
Humph! Was it a disease or something? "My name is Kittar, I'm a cat, and a medic, and I came from the desert, and if I have to repeat it once more, I'll hurt someone!" She raised a paw full of claws to demonstrate the point.  
The wolf chuckled. "I love the temper," he said and grinned again. "You wouldn't be interested joining us, would you?"

Honestly! She was not going to repeat herself! "Ask something original."  
"Ha! OK. Are you single?"  
She sniffed haughtily. "No."

"Slag. Would I have a chance if I killed him?" Whoever the 'he' was.

Her fur bristled and her tail started sweeping the grass.  
Rust snickered. "I guess that means 'no'. And guess attacking you won't help much either?"  
Her tail was a blur now. But other than that, she was still as a statue. And his nose, quivering in search for a smell of fear, received only irritation. Lots and lots of irritation.  
Rust shook in silent laugher. She was definitely peculiar! He moved her up to the third place on his list.  
"You should begin getting nervous right now," he suggested in as serious voice as he could master. "You're alone and I am three times bigger than you."

She just snorted. Right. He would be veeeery sorry if he tried anything.  
He leapt suddenly, covering about half the distance between them and stopped, looking at her. What? Was that supposed to scare her?

Rust couldn't help a small laugh, when she raised one paw and inspected her claws, acting as if he wasn't there. He trotted closer in almost dance-like manner.  
The cat looked at the sky with bored expression.  
Oh, come on! There were only three meters left between them now, she had to do something! He growled experimentally. She yawned. All right, missy, that does it!

Leap, snap-- OW! OWowOWowowwOW!

_HISSSSSSSSSSS!_  
With one blurry eye he found the source of the sound, sat on a branch above. Slag, that was fast! He licked his bleeding nose, and risked opening the other eye. OW! He closed it hastily.  
Note to self: nose and eyes are good points to distract an opponent in his beast-mode for a few nano-kliks. It may not be serious, but it hurts.

Ok, so now he could terrorize and shoot her, but that would be so... pathetic. Like he was a poor loser or something. And he'd got what he came for anyway. He decided to save what little dignity he still had.  
"I'm not dating you," he stated sternly. "And thanks for the info." With that he trotted away. A contemptuous '_humph'_ followed him.

* * *

The base greeted him with drawn-out moans of tormented metal. He followed them out of curiosity, terrorizing and wincing at the brief flare of pain in his chestplate. The screech of metal ended with a loud clang and a passionate comment on Megatron's lineage. Rust sniggered.

_Screech.  
Screeeeeeech_.

Terrorsaur cursed again and again. He'd been assigned to preparing the most dilapidated part of the ship for the big show; specifically, he was to make sure that the already existing crack would split the decks all the way down, and that meant removing everything that could prevent it, like reinforcement beams and supports. He'd been fighting with them for the whole past week, praying all the time for the ceiling not to collapse on his head all of a sudden. Now he was almost done, there were just a few more bolts he had to remove. The problem was, they didn't want to cooperate. He should have known, really; rust was out to get him, in its every form.  
"Move it, you slaggin--" Terrorsaur gritted, wrestling with a stubborn nut. He pushed on a wrench harder, and it slipped off the nut, slamming onto his other hand.

"RUSTED HEAP OF SCRAP!"  
"Called me?"  
"Gak!" Terror whirled and flattened himself against the wall, dropping the wrench. Rust caught it just above the ground, laughing at his private joke and other bot's reaction.  
"Why you guys keep doing this, is beyond me," he stated with an innocent grin, eyeing the nut. "I'm not--" he grunted, loosening the thing and proceeding with unscrewing it, "--_that_ scary. Here." He passed the tool and the nut to Terror. "Try and not to hurt yourself." He noticed a dumbfounded expression on the white face, so with a grin he added "That's _my_ job," just before he left.  
"Just try; I can kick your sorry skid-plate anytime!" Terrorsaur called after him, when he was sure he wouldn't be heard.

* * *

"You did _what_?"  
"Asked her," the blue bot repeated with slightly amused voice. He touched gently the fresh scratch marks on his chestplate. "She wasn't too thrilled." He smiled disarmingly at Megatron expression. "We're at war. Whatever works, right?"  
Megatron stared at him. He was a patient bot, he really was, but the kid better had something interesting to say... "Well?"  
Rust started ticking off the facts on his fingers. "Her name is Kittar, she is a medic, she throws daggers, and she said that she'd come from the desert, so I guess she might have followed mine and Terror's trail."

Yes, that would make sense... Megatron pondered. "We would have noticed a falling pod, so she must be from one of pods that crashed with us, yess. That leaves two more--"

"Er, one," Rust corrected. "The guy that crashed next to me is dead." He grinned, perfectly aware how Megatron would interpret it. And sure enough, Megatron nodded approvingly. "I would appreciate it if you'd show the same enthusiasm with the other Maximals."  
Rust grinned broadly.

* * *

One more bolt. Just - one - more - bolt.  
Done! Terrorsaur subspaced the wrench and surveyed his handiwork. If there was anything else that could keep this wall together, he didn't want to know about it! He headed to the control room and almost walked into Waspinator.

"Out of my way, bug," he growled, pushing the wasp-bot to the wall as he passed by. A nano-klik later a powerful punch to the back sent _him_ to the wall. He hissed in surprise. Waspinator fighting back?  
"Why you little--" he turned, his fist swishing through the air. It stuck in midway, in a hand that wasn't little at all.

"Guess what, it's been a week already," Rust announced with a grin, and his fist landed on Terrorsaur's side-struts.

* * *

"Hey! Look at that!"  
Cheetor's exclamation drew Maximals' attention to the 'spy's eyes'. On one of them a ball of blows had just rolled into view. For a moment it looked like the brawl was over already, but then Terrorsaur squirmed and kicked backward, shoving the bigger bot off him.  
"Ah, da joys of family life," Rattrap commented, watching the red and blue bot exchanging insults and punches.

"Oh-oh. They're in trouble!" Cheetor pointed to the corner of the screen, where a purple form appeared.

* * *

Terrorsaur twisted his whole body, putting all the force he could master into a motion that plunged his elbow into a spot just below Rust's neck. The blue bot fell to one knee with a choked grunt, and then jumped to his feet with a roar, and Terrorsaur was sent flying, with a nasty dent in his chest-plate. He hastily activated his jets and hovered, pressing hand to his chest. It felt as if it was on fire, indicating damaged air intakes.  
"Go to the Pit!" he screeched, retrieving his gun and firing.

Just as he pulled the trigger, a large hand grabbed his throat and the shot was lost somewhere on the ceiling.  
"I do hope you have an explanation for your behavior, yess."

Terrorsaur wisely stayed still and silent. For once it wasn't him who was in bigger trouble.  
Rust with interest inspected the glowing laser launcher, surrounded by a multitude of sharp teeth. "We were just wrestling," he said with a careless, innocent smile.  
"With energy weapons?"

"He cheated."  
"As is in the best Predacon traditions, yess," Megatron said matter-of-factly. "However, I suggest you two save your energy for Maximals. Now go back to your duties."

* * *

"And that's it? Man, I'm disappointed," Rattrap huffed, slumping in his chair.

Dinobot stared at the screen, frowning. "This is unusual. I'm surprised he interfered, if he had no intention of punishing them."

"Ah, ever since we 'ave the cable yer carrying' that sour face around, Chopper-face. What's da matter? Are ya home-sick?"  
"If you're going to quarrel again, go outside."  
"I will most certainly not lower myself to the level of this rat, Optimus."  
"That's just because ya'd have to climb up fer a mile, Dino-brain!"

"_Out! Side!_"

* * *

It was raining again. With a sigh, Tarantulas decided he'd have to show up at the base, because no one would believe he was sitting under a rock in this weather. He redirected the signal from four arachnoids he'd placed around Axalon to a small screen-pad, and left his lair.  
Back in the base, he found Megatron in one of the not-monitored rooms, and handed him the pad along with a smooth lie about installing the cameras while he was out, which earned him a reluctant 'good work'.

"How do you plan to feign our deaths? Even the Maximals won't fall for a simple explosion," he said just for the sake of being annoying. He was sure Megatron hadn't thought of it yet. To his disappointment, the tyrant smiled. "Scorponok is working on it, yess."

OoOoO

"So, what exactly are we here for, sarge?" Rust asked, looking around the CR room intrigued.  
Waspinator buzzed.  
"Why Rust calling scorp-ponok sarge?" For a bot who was forcing him to say people's names correctly, Rust was definitely too frivolous with them himself!  
The blue bot shrugged. "It's easier to say than Second-in-command. And it sounds cool. And I've always wanted to call someone sarge. "Because Sarge Steeljack had been such an awesome character, and Rust nearly cried when the producers killed him off and replaced him with that boring Captain Moorline. The show just wasn't the same without the guy.

"We're here for our parts," Scorponok said in answer to Rust's question. "The tank's filters weren't cleaned since we've arrived. There should be lots of--" he was feeling for a catch on tank's side, just above the ground. He found it and opened it with a click, a filter slid out, and all three of them jumped back.

"EWWWWW!"

OoOoO

** Megatron, ah, there, ah, there is, ah, problem. **  
Tarantulas kept the straight face. Barely, but he did. Megatron answered the call with a growl. "What is it, Scorponok?"  
** Ah, the parts, ah, organics, ah, are, er, decomposed, ah, badly-- **

"It STINKS here, slaggit!" Rust howled desperately. He was pressing his hands to his lower chestplate, trying without much success to cut off the air income to his beast mode nose. He didn't even want to think what it would be like if he was _breathing_ trough that nose at the moment... Argh! Why did he have to think of that? Staggering and fighting hard the wave of nauseas, he ran.  
Waspinator watched him go in amazement. The smell was bad, true, but not _that_ bad... "Waspinator think Rust hysteric," he muttered quietly. "And Wazzpinator thinks tanks needs to be cleaned more often," he added louder. "And Waspinator thinkzz we need to sort the partzz."  
"Well, stop thinking and do it!" Scorponok finally thought of shutting down his olfactory sensors, and was able to function properly again. He tried to radio Rust, but he only got a bit hysterical ** I ain't going back there! ** and then static. All further attempts on contacting him resulted with nothing.

* * *

The wolf resurfaced after a solar-cycle, looking extremely sheepish and embarrassed. With ears down and tail between his legs he listened to a long reprimand Megatron prepared for him, meekly accepted being appointed to monitor duty for a week as punishment, whined a bit about the smell, and went to the comm.-room. He was greeted there by a scratchy voice asking sarcastically, if poor little puppy needed a hug. A nano-klik later Terrorsaur sped away with a singe and a screech. Apparently, the wolf bot was back to normal.

* * *

"Yer dead now, Spots!"  
"In your dreams! I'm a master of fists!"  
"Ya have no chance against me, kiddo!"

Optimus looked at Rhinox exasperatedly. "Do you know of some way to make them stop?" "You could try shutting off the computer..."

Rattrap had finally finished his little upgrade, and introduced to the world the 'Beast fighters'. The animation was lousy, as well as the graphics, but the characters were easily recognizable. Right now a mini-Megatron, led by Rattrap, was beating the slag out of Cheetor-driven mini-Dinobot.  
"Mega bummer! You're cheating!"  
"Hah!"

* * *

Two solar cycles.  
Two entire mechy solar cycles.  
Two entire mechy boring slaggin' solar cycles.  
And no one came even near to the comm.-room; maybe they'd sensed that Rust was considering soldering someone to the wall just to have some company in his misery.

_"AaauuuuuUUUUUuuuuuUUU!"_

_BEEP_ ** Cease this noise, Rust! **

"But I'm bored! Can I go and DO something?"

** Watch the monitors. **

"But they don't doooo anything!" he whined. "Nothing happens! Even in our base everything is quiet! I want some action!"

** Well then, next time don't abandon an appointed task. Megatron out **  
Rust howled.

* * *

The tanks' filters had been cleaned, the mangled pieces of armor were separated from oozy organic parts, cleaned, disinfected and cleaned again. Tarantulas picked up a small fragment of green armor and inspected it critically. "Well, it would look convincing if not for the fact that we only have scraps of armors."  
Megatron politely asked, why that was a problem, and Tarantulas with a small cackle reminded him that the Maximals, as idiotic as they were, might still notice the suspicious lack of organic parts...

Behind his back, Rust snorted. He only just got freed from the monitors, and was packed with a weeks' worth of wound aggression. "I can get you some organic parts," he said.  
Tarantulas glanced at him over his shoulder. "Oh really?" he sneered.  
"Yep," Rust confirmed and shot two of his spider legs off.

OoOoO

"That lousy wolf should be doing this," Terrorsaur muttered, carrying another box of 'evidences' to Tarantulas's lab. "Why is it me who gets the wo-- gah!"  
He turned the corner and bumped into someone, eliciting a yelp of pain. He took a step back and looked the other bot up and down. Well, the laser, fists, and machine guns had obviously been at work.  
"Don't tell me - you've walked into a door."

Rust gave him a LOOK. "That's right," he growled. "Here," he dropped something in a box the red bot was holding. "Should look convincing. Oh, wait..." he inspected his forearm, bearing the unmistakable teeth marks, and slammed it against the wall. Terrorsaur jumped, and gaped as Rust proceeded with tearing off a piece of his armor.  
"...This should look even better." A furry gauntlet landed on top of other parts.  
Terrorsaur found his voice. "You're mental!"  
"Am not!" this time Rust looked really offended. He put his nose up high and stalked off. When he was out of Terror's sight, he clutched at his arm and produced a little dance to an 'ow, slag, hurts, slag, ow, ow, slag' tune. There were times when he really didn't know where to stop... But, slag it, the look on Terror's face was worth it. Whistling quietly, the young bot headed to the CR room.

* * *

And finally, the day of big performance came.

Everything was prepared. A bomb in between two bases planted, small charges with 'corpus delicti' readied, the machines set, and the actors in place.  
Megatron bent over the refiner.  
Lights...  
Camera...  
Action!

* * *

It was Rhinox's turn to watch the Spy's Eyes, and watch them he did, ready to take notes if the experimental refiner the Preds were working on proved to be any good.

At first it went well. Rhinox watched with interest as small energon crystal started transforming into a cube without a liquid state in between. This looked promising... up to the point when the crystal exploded.

Scorponok threw his claws up. "This is pointless, Megatron!"  
Terrorsaur nodded. "I'm risking my neck mining energon, and you keep blowing it up!" He screeched, taking an offensive stance.

Cheetor abandoned his game. "Wow! The losers are getting hot-headed!"  
Dinobot noticed a small movement of Megatron's hand and snarled contemptuously. "Megatron is calling for back-up," he said, pointing to the other screen, where Rust and Tarantulas abandoned whatever they were doing and hurried out of the room.

Rust rushed into the hold just as Terrorsaur, shortly followed by Waspinator, gave up the verbal arguments and resorted to good old violence. The wolf bot jumped in front of his leader and returned fire.  
Rhinox tensed instinctively. A reckless fire fight in a room full of unrefined energon, this just couldn't end well.  
He heard Tarantulas's voice shouting a warning just a nano-klik before a there was flash of blinding light.  
The screen went static.  
Few nano-kliks later, Axalon shook.

The Maximals looked at each other in stunned silence, and then rushed to the lift without a word.

* * *

A hoist engine rattled at full capacity.  
"Faster!" Came a sharp command.  
Something very heavy landed on the ground with a thud.  
"How much time do we have?" Scratchy voice asked over clangs of a reel retracting hoist wires.  
"Optimus can be here in half a mega-cycle, MOVE!"  
A small explosion completed the scene of destruction.

With a sound of hasty footsteps, the perpetrators retreated.

* * *

The first thing the Maximals saw was a column of dark smoke rising above the Predacon base.  
The second thing was the base itself.  
The cruiser's massive main hull, previously poking at the sky at an awkward angle, now lay on the ground. Smoke was coming from a large crack, running through almost all decks of the ship.

"Wow. This place looks, like, totally slagged!" Cheetor was surveying damages in awe.  
"It is."  
"No life sings"  
"No energy signatures"  
Rhinox and Kittar subspaced their detectors and beastmoded.

"Can that be confirmed?" Dinobot asked, voice a little harsher than usual.  
"Hey! Are ya tryin' to insult them, smelly-scales?" Rattrap blurted, taking a defensive stance just in case.  
But Dinobot's gaze was locked on the trashed ship, and strangely absent. He seemed not to even have heard the taunt.

Optimus could only guess what was going on behind those reptilian eyes. The thought of it added a grim tone to his voice, when he spoke.  
"There's only one way to make sure. Let's move."

* * *

"Still no signatures. But the shields are active, it's safe to transform."  
All except Kittar maximized, looking around. The control room looked almost untouched, only in one corner the wall had gave way. Rattrap rummaged in there and pulled out a small, slightly bent bar.  
"All right! Let's pillage and plunder, mates!" he said cheerfully, striking a pose a'la Starwelder from "Space pirates". Rhinox couldn't help a small smile. There was just something irresistibly comical in Starwelder's lines being said in Rattrap's strong accent. The small bot loved that movie, and had used to quote it a lot, especially when he was in a good mood... or when he wanted to hide that he was feeling uneasy.

Optimus frowned at the rat's frivolity. Didn't he realize it wasn't time for stupid jokes?  
"We're only here for space-drive parts. This is still a Predacon ship, even if uninhabited. It still can be dangerous."

Rattrap made a face. "Well, ah, so what say we make a _Predacon_ go first?" With two quick steps he was in front of Dinobot, pushing at his chestplate with the tip of his 'saber'.

"Yes, that would be logical," Dinobot said, absentmindedly pushing the bar aside. "I will take point."

Rattrap gaped at the warrior's back. That wasn't in the script!  
"Man, I'm pushin' all his hot buttons and I'm gettin' nada!" he complained quietly. "What's with him?"  
Optimus gritted his teeth. Honestly... "Can't you figure it out?" he murmured, pushing past the small bot to follow the warrior.

***

Dinobot intended to go straight to the engine room, but the way there led near the hold the fight had taken place in, and somehow he turned right instead of left, and... He stopped dead in a doorway. After a few nanos he moved, letting Optimus in.

"Primus..." was all the maximal leader had to say. Behind his back Rattrap swallowed. "Don't let the cats in here," he breathed to the green bot following him.

Too late. A slim, red body already slipped past them, and stopped in the middle of the room.

Kittar looked around, breathing very slowly. She moved to sniff at two spider legs, which, Optimus couldn't help noticing, were the biggest piece of... someone... that could be found in this room. He beat a hasty retreat, almost dragging away surprised Cheetor, before he could see any of this.  
_Though maybe he _**_should_**_ see it... Maybe he should see how a _**_real_** _victory looks like_... _That was the part me and Levers never talked about_...

Rhinox did what he always did in the past. He turned a little mental switch, shutting emotions off. He really hoped Kittar knew this trick as well. And Dinobot too, he added grudgingly, watching the Predacon picking up a small piece of purple armor.

* * *

Rattrap sneaked through the corridors. 'Only_ here for space-drive parts_.' Bah! Optimus was a bore. A little scavenging couldn't hurt...  
"Something's wrong with the bodies," Kittar said behind his back, almost giving him a spark attack.  
"Don't do that!" he protested, turning to face her. "An' the wrong thing about... 'the bodies'... is that they ain't there!"  
The cat shook her head impatiently. "No. There are no organic parts, except for Tarantulas's legs. And almost no circuitry, just pieces of armors. It's strange. And there's solution residue on them, and--"  
"Cat, ya need help. Really. Go bother someone else with yer sick interests."

Kittar puffed at Rattrap's back and went away to find the other person who might listen. Unfortunately, as it turned out, he wasn't in the mood.  
"I want to be left alone, cat," he said before she even opened her mouth. So she just sat down at her hinds and watched raptor's diminishing form, as he slowly walked away in the gathering storm.

* * *

"Are you sure there wasn't a better place?" the almost pleading tone in Terrorsaur's voice only increased the delight Tarantulas was feeling already. There was a better place. About two thousand better places. Just a few hundred meters behind the wall of this tiny crack was a whole network of wide caves. The occasion to watch everyone suffer, cramped and uncomfortable, under the doubtful protection of the widow's signature damping device, made this entire affair worthwhile.

And, of course, there was an itsy-bitsy chance that the plan would work. Which would be welcomed too.

* * *

Something was missing. Rattrap straightened up and looked around. "Hey, ah, where's Chopper-face?"  
"Left," said Kittar behind his back.  
"Gah!" Rattrap jumped and turned. "Don't DO that!" Then he registered what she had said. "Whaddaya mean, left?"  
"Said he wanted to be left alone and left." Kittar nuzzled against a crate he was about to pick up, and jumped on top of it. Rattrap made a move to push her off, but though better of it. He was more than familiar with her claws by now.  
"Even better," he murmured instead, and went to talk to Optimus.

"Yo, Scrape Ape, what are we gonna do with Dinobot?"  
Optimus raised optic ridges. "Why should we do anything?"  
Rattrap groaned inwardly. Here we go again...

_Look, he helped us a bit, and you like him, and you think you know him. You think you can trust him. But you can't! He's a Pred! It didn't change just because he saved you from a few blasts when it was convenient for him! You don't know the Preds! You might have been through the war with them, but I have been through the peace! I've been shot inna back by the kid next door; I've been ambushed by guys I'd played swirl-ball with only few years back! You can never trust them! The Preds are always PREDS!_

But he'd already said all that, the very first day, and it had no effect on their stupidly stubborn leader, so he just took a deep breath, put his hands together to stop them from curling into fists, and tried a slightly different approach.  
"Look... He joined us 'cause he knew we would win, but now that we did, what reason he has to hang out with us any longer?"  
"His honor?" Optimus politely offered.

_Ugh!  
_"Optimus! He's a soldier! With enemy gone, who do ya think he's gonna fight?"  
Optimus looked away with a slight frown.  
_Rattrap, I'm sorry about your home colony, I know you have the right to be bitter, but we can't let the past to rule our lives_.  
"We will worry about this when the time comes. Now gather the others, we've got what we need."

* * *

Tarantulas was devouring something again. How often one could eat, for Primus' sake? And if he'd at least keep it to himself, but no. The whole area knew that the spider was feasting, and at every _crunch_, and every _munch_, and _smack_ and _slurp_ and _fllrrlurlulrllrrr_ Terrorsaur's half organic stomach was turning inside out.

And then there was Waspinator, who had kept a broken tip of Terrorsaur's own wing, and was _screech, screechy, screeeeech_ happily drawing with it on the rock wall.

And then there was Rust, sprawled on the ground, occupying a lot of the precious little space they had, and licking at his wounds, _slurp, smack, slurp_.

And then there was Megatron, occupying even MORE space, and _breathing_, and with every _swoosh_ of inhaled air the room Terrorsaur had was getting fractionally smaller, and he would have sworn it wasn't getting any bigger with the _swish_ of exhalation.

And then there was--

_drip, **flop**, drip, **flop**_...  
--something disgusting dripping on his wing!

"Stop slobbering on me!"  
"I'm feasting!" Tarantulas snapped, turning a little to glance at him, pushing Waspinator in the process, which caused the wasp drop his scriber.  
"Tarantulas fat enough already!" he exclaimed, annoyed, punching at spider's abdomen.

Tarantulas turned again, and, being in a good mood (the whole _network_ of caverns!) he started an insult-push-insult war rather than poisoning the offender on the spot.

One of Terrorsaur's eyes began to twitch when shrill voices filled the air. Where had those two been when the voice-boxes were being given out? Where were they when were _processors_? And why did they have to be so close? Why were the _walls_ so close?

"I can't stand it anymore! Let me out!" He realized that he was screaming and flopping madly, bashing into the walls, when an impact with Megatron's enormous head crashed him back to the ground.

Megatron wasn't the happiest of bots himself, and he would gladly tear someone to pieces at the moment, but, having his movements severely limited, he settled for using his head as a battering ram and putting all frustration he felt into forceful "NO ONE LEAVES!"

"I can bite his head off if you wish," came from beside him.  
Rust lifted his head, and shot the pterodactyl a hateful and hungry look. "And tear his wings off, and gut him, and eat his fluid pump..."

Terrorsaur gulped.  
'Forgetting' to lower his weapon settings seemed to be a good idea at the time. Only afterwards he realized that, since Waspinator was using his stinger, and Scorponok missiles, Rust knew perfectly well whom to thank for fusion blast wounds. If his ranting was any indicator, he wasn't going to forget about it in a hurry.

"...munch on his liver, and paint the room with his energon, and use his spark as a flashlight!"

The last one caused everyone to stop and take a while to process the concept.  
_Interesting threat_, Megatron decided.

_Interesting idea_, thought Tarantulas.

The rest of Predacons filed it under 'EWWW!'

* * *

The repairs were almost finished, and Optimus called everybody in. Tigatron entered the ship uneasily. True, he'd spent few hours in it before, but now he was aware that he wouldn't be leaving it for at least fortnight, and after that he will be on a purely technological planet, of which he had no memories.  
This... this just didn't feel right. This planet, wild and pure, was his home. Yet he didn't truly belong here. Tigatron sighed. He would have to learn to live on his future home, he decided.  
And just then Dinobot came in, only to bid them farewell, and the tiger's thoughts spun again.

***

A soft sound of someone landing on the lowered lift caused Dinobot to turn around.  
"Good hunting."

He nodded. "And to you too," he said walking away.  
Kittar watched him go, a tip of her tail twitching. "Lift up," she finally said, rubbing her muzzle with one paw.

In the control room she came nose to nose with a bit surprised tiger. (Well, technically, it was nose to chest, due to the size difference, but you know what I mean.) She looked at him questioningly. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then he just turned and walked away, looking slightly embarrassed. Kittar shrugged. People were weird.

* * *

"Tarantulas, what is the situation?" Megatron's voice was sharper than he intended. He didn't mind the enclosed space all that much, and he could suffer his troops' proximity, but what he couldn't stand was the helplessness his beast mode inflicted of him. A tyrannosaur may be intimidating when all you can see is its open jaw approaching at high speed, but when it tries to manipulate a small object with those puny arms - weeeeell, it's simply hilarious. Especially if it tries to see this object.  
That's why Tarantulas was the one watching the miniature screen-pad.  
"They are all inside except for Dinobot. He'd left almost mega-cycle ago and hasn't returned yet. Surely they won't leave without him?"  
Megatron started to respond, and suddenly his eyes went wide.

Staying behind in a desolate place where no future awaited him but the eternity to sulk in peace? Would a sane person do that? No. Would Dinobot? Well duh! It would be just like him! That's how the two of them first met! And that meant... That meant the Maximals could leave any nano-klik now.  
"Predacons, prepare to attack!"

* * *

A lone raptor traversed the plains. Looking at its trail from above, one would clearly see that it was leading straight to the Predacons' former base. And further on its path - a narrow crack in the ground.

* * *

"Well, let's do it."  
Rhinox nodded and pushed the starter, holding his breath. He'd done what he could with the engines, but he wasn't a wonder-worker. There were about two hundred things that could go wrong...

* * *

Dinobot snarled when he realized where he was headed, but didn't change his course. There was no reason not to go there, after all. He raised his head and froze. For a moment he was sure he was hallucinating, but then Megatron spotted him as well, and shot.  
Dinobot shook off the shock, and his hand jumped to his comlink.  
"Dinobot to Maximal base!"

* * *

The engines roared to life, creating a strong electromagnetic field, which cut off the radio connection.  
"What? What was that?" Cheetor looked at the radio.  
"What is it, Cheetor?"  
"I don't know, I though I've heard something... Ah, it's probably nothing."

* * *

Dinobot growled, covering behind a rock. The empty plain suddenly swarmed with Predacons. Everyone was there, he had no chance beating them alone, and he couldn't contact the Maximals. They didn't even know! What if Megatron reached the ship before they took off?  
A warrior never runs from the battle.  
But he had to warn them.  
Making up his mind, Dinobot beastmoded and ran.

* * *

The engines were charging slowly. Rattrap rubbed his hands. "Cybertron, I'm comin'!" He beamed at the nearest person, who happened to be Tigatron. "Man, yer gonna love this place! I'll take ya to the best joints, I'm tellin' ya, there's that sweet little hole in da wall, where ya'll meet--"

Rhinox glanced at them with a smile. Poor Tigatron would need a rescue team... The movement on the screen behind the rat's back drew his attention, and his smile suddenly vanished.  
"Dinobot!"  
Rattrap waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, he ain't gonna be there."  
Rhinox ignored him. "Optimus!" he shouted over his shoulder.

***

Dinobot was approaching the base, the sound of his own fluid pomp pounding in his ears. He was surprised that the Predacons hadn't shot so far. He risked a glance back. Ah, Megatron probably ordered them in beast modes to avoid energon surges. But so close to the Axalon, they would surely--  
A pain flared in his back, and he fell to the ground  
--terrorize and start fighting.  
With a pained growl, Dinobot transformed himself and rolled, shooting laser at his pursuers. Above the sound of firepower, he heard the roar of charging engines. The Axalon was ready to launch. Good, he only needed to stop Megatron for a little while... He dimly heard the voice of Optimus shouting for cover fire. They were coming for him?  
_No, you fools! Take off and get out of here!_

***

Rust growled. His injuries were slowing him down, and he was way behind the others. It looked like he would miss the battle AND commandeering the ship, and it was all that lousy flyer's fault. Slag it! Well, he could at least play sniper...  
He terrorized, crouched and took aim. Optimus was flying, covering behind a shield, and he knew what the shields were for, but Cheetor didn't. With a snigger Rust sent a few shots at kid's exposed side.

Cheetor yelped and fell to his knees. The heavy shield slipped from his grasp, and leaned on his shoulder.

The interesting thing about battle shields is that they are designed to disperse energy and fusion shots, and to deflect lasers. In theory, when the shield is positioned vertically, laser goes back to the sender. But when volley of Megatron's shots narrowly missed Dinobot and hit Cheetor's shield, it was leaned at an angle of about 45.

It was a trick the ancient Egyptian architects would have been proud of.  
The shots seared vertically up the lift shaft.  
Tigatron, preparing to jump down managed to shield himself, laser shots rebounded again, and went straight into the shields' rack. And from there, they went _everywhere_.  
"Duck!" Rattrap screamed an unnecessary warning, throwing himself to the floor. Out of the corner of his optic he saw Tigatron disappearing in the shaft. Stupid feline!

***

"Cheetor, Cheetor! Are you all right?"  
Wincing, the young transformer looked up into a green, worried face. "Yea, I'm ready to pounce," he gasped, scrambling to his feet. "Let's go help Optimus."

Up in the control room the last of blasts died away, and Rattrap got to his feet. "That was stupid," he murmured, coughing and waving the dust away. "Ain't nobody worth gettin' yer pelt punctured over. Right, ol' buddy?" There was no response. Rattrap turned. "Rhinox? RHINOX!"

The green bot grunted, clutching at the shorting wound in his chest, and tried to smile reassuringly. "I'll survive..."  
Rattrap didn't hear him. He didn't notice Kittar rushing to Rhinox's side either. All he saw were the dark alleys, and then just red.  
"THOSE SLAGGIN' PREDS! They ain't gettin' away wit' it this time!"

***

His legs didn't want to support him. For the third time he tried to get up and for the third time he collapsed. He was not going to die lying! With a growl, Dinobot jerked himself up, only to hear a mocking "Give my regards to the Pit!" behind him, and the next nano he received a missile in the back. The explosion tossed him almost all the way to Axalon. He landed at someone's feet. That someone was spitting mad.  
"Slag it! NOBODY picks on Chopper-face but ME!"

The red fog clouding his processor cleared slowly. Rattrap looked at his own blaster, at badly damaged Tarantulas at the other side of a front sight, and at Dinobot at his feet.  
"Am I NUTS? What the heck am I doin'?"

"Dying, mouse!" Tarantulas was really pissed of. That rat had messed with him for the last time! He raised all his weapons--

--and got literally blown away, as a low rattle of chain gun sounded from the side.  
"Rhi--?" Rattrap started, tuning, and then his jaw hit the ground.  
"In!" Kittar shouted from above Rhinox's gun she was barely holding.  
Well, he certainly wasn't going to argue about that. Rattrap grabbed Dinobot's neck and started dragging him to the lift. The lift, which, he noticed with alarm, wasn't touching the ground anymore. The Axalon was taking off!

***

"NO!" Megatron was furious. "Scorponok, make me an entrance!" he roared, running towards the raising ship. That was an old command, and Scorponok almost smiled sadly launching four missiles in a row. The explosion breached the hull, and Megatron leapt, grabbing for the edge of the hole.

Far away on the plain, Rust grinned.  
_Nice move, boss! _ _But you'll be alone with three, no, four Maxis up there, we can't have that, can we_... He took aim.

***

Rattrap dropped Dinobot on the platform and hit his comlink.  
"Come back 'ere, ye stupidos! Da ship is leavin'!" He screamed both in the air and on the general frequency.  
Kittar was the only one who followed his advice. She abandoned the chain gun and jumped on the lift. Once there, she immediately started welding Dinobot's wounds. Rattrap was about to snap something about workaholism, when she suddenly screamed and fell off the platform.

"Whatta--?" Rattrap looked down after her with wide optics, and the shot meant for him hit the ship instead. Slag! He flattened himself next to Dinobot, searching frantically for the shooter. There, on the plain, few flashes of energy. He adjusted his vision and growled. The wolf wanted to play sniper, huh? Well guess what, two could play this game. He started shooting in the Predacon's direction and kept doing that until the lift pulled inside the ship.

***

Rhinox had managed to reach the chair in front of the space drive console, and was clicking the switches when the lift opened. He glanced at it and smiled weakly. "You made it."  
"Yea, can ya believe it? An' with Chopper-face, too!"  
The mentioned bot moaned from the floor level. "You should have left me behind," he managed. Rattrap grabbed him with a growl.  
"Listen, pal, Optimus and the cats are still down there, and it's yer fault, so show some decency an' shut up!" He was so busy shaking the startled warrior, that he didn't hear the corridor door opening, or the footsteps, until something grabbed him from behind, almost crushing him.  
"I advise you to do the same, mouse!"

Megatron grinned a horrifying grin. He'd won. Of three Maximals present, two were almost scrapped, and the third was fighting for the air in his grasp. The victory was sweet. There was nothing that could spoil this moment... except the whine of a whirling chain gun. He turned around and looked into a pair of red optics, which were the only part of Rhinox's face visible above the barrel of his gun.

"Leave - him - ALONE!" the bot growled, pulling the trigger.

***

On the ground there was a ceasefire going at the moment. Optimus joined Cheetor and Tigatron and they formed a little shelter of their shields around wincing Kittar, while Scorponok ordered the Predacons to fall back. There was no point in continuing the fight anyway; everything was in Megatron's hands now.

***

Megaton's hand closed around edge of the lift, and he roared in helpless fury. One moment he was standing victorious on the bridge of Maximals' ship, the next nano Rhinox's shot forced him into the lift, and Rattrap kindly activated it, dropping a little explosive souvenir after him. It went off, shoving the Predacon over the platform and he barely managed to grab it. But his hold was slipping rapidly, and--

"Slag you all!" he roared, falling.

He barely missed the cliff's edge and plummeted into the river. A few nanos later, something blue hit the water surface nearby.

_Where is he? Where the slag is he? The scanner's scrapped, rusted piece of crap! Don't panic, think! A spark! Where is his spark? There_!  
Rust hurled himself through the water and grabbed. His fingers closed on a metal arm, and he pulled the limp body to the shore.

Active? Yes, still active. Phew...

"You're one lucky bastard, you know that?" he choked out. Slag, speaking hurt. Inhaling water definitely hadn't been a good idea. Shakily he reached for his comlink. "Sarge, I've found Megs. Floater will be needed." He ended the transmission with a databurst with their coordinates, blinked a few times, and passed out.

* * *

The lift's supports were bent so badly out of shape that the sealing hatch wouldn't close over them. Not to mention multiple alerts about breached hull Sentinel was displaying. They would have to stay on the orbit for repairs once they cleared the atmosphere, because one can't traverse universe in a spacecraft as holey as Swiss cheese. That meant that Rattrap's immediate future would involve laboring with repairs while running on open-space subroutines. What fun. Not.  
They'd also have to make sure they'd be able to find this planet again once they left, so that they could come back to pick up the rest of the guys. But that would be Rhinox's job, so that's at least one less worry for this rat, Rattrap thought, going over to help Rhinox up.

Before he reached his friend, however, the whole ship jerked with a deafening clatter, which ended with an ugly whirr. Rattrap grabbed the nearest console for support.

"What was that!?"  
If he were a human, Rhinox would have paled. "The space drive broke! The power lines must have been damaged somewhere!"  
"Meanin'?" Rattrap asked a bit hysterically, and the next nano the floor escaped from under him and he answered the question himself. "We're goin' down! Do something!"

***

Four pairs of optics stared in horror at the falling ship. "They're gonna crash!"  
Optimus jumped to the air. "I'll try to get them out!"

***

"We're all gonna dieeee!" Rattrap stared fixedly at the rapidly nearing ground.  
Rhinox closed his optics and tried to focus. There had to be something they could do...  
"Rattrap! The front brakes! Activate it! And the stabilizers!"  
"Wha-? Right!" The small bot jumped to the console and slammed his fist on the buttons. The ship jerked violently as maneuver jets came online, pushing it up and to the side. Rattrap cursed and slammed his hands on the control pads. Slag, slag, slag, that was Cheetor's job, not his! How did it go? Fingers for thrusters, thumbs for power?  
Yes! Biting his lips, he focused on navigating the ship and stabilizing it. He almost jumped at the sudden jerk. "Wha-? What happened?" He looked at the monitors and blinked. "I've landed!"  
"That was impressive," someone said weakly behind him. Rattrap glanced over his shoulder. When did _he_ get here?  
"We don't take hitchhikers, push off."  
Optimus threw his head back and laughed with relief.

* * *

There were so many things he could have woken up to. He could have woken up dead. He could have woken up in CR-tank. He could have woken up in a CR-_chamber_. He could have even woken up in a _torture_ chamber. So why oh why did he have to wake up to this?  
"... ya lead-headed overgrown iguana! It's yer fault I ain't kicking back to Cybertron right now!"  
"I've done planet a favor," he murmured, too tired to think of a proper insult. He tried to sit up.  
"Don't move!" Kittar puffed, pushing him back. "I'm almost done."  
"Ya are done? No, sista', _he_ is done - he is SO done for I almost pity 'im!"  
"Was that supposed to be a threat, mouse?"  
"Ya bet, Lizard-lips! I'm gonna show ya exactly how velociraptors got extinct!"

Optimus shook his head and laughed. Home, trashed and battered, but still sweet, home...

* * *

Chapter edited on 01.12.2009


	8. Leaders' little worries

A/N: It took me so long to write this, because since 21 of April I have the most beautiful distraction in the whole world. So this part is for Alicja, my absolutely amazing niece, who keeps me away from the keyboard :)))))))  
Disclaimer: I don't own Beast Wars. Duh.

Part eight  
**Leaders' little worries**  
_You'd think that, being a leader, you'd have no bigger worries than an occasional change of allegiance... Ha!_

--

--

The auto-gun grated against its base, before settling on it. Optimus turned it this way and that to make sure its movement weren't limited, and glanced at Rhinox and Rattrap, who were wiring the bases for other guns. The Axalon, thanks to Rattrap's hitherto unknown docking skills, had landed in one piece, but few hundred meters down the river from its previous location, and the whole perimeter defense system had to be installed anew. Optimus tracked the events that had led to this to their source, and shook his head.  
"Rhinox, I need to ask you a favor," he said.  
Rhinox made a questioning sound, clicking the breakers in place.

"Next time I have any bright ideas just after leaving the CR-Chamber, tell me to shut up."

"Yea, especially if it involves sendin' me to da Preds. I started seein' a pattern dere." Rattrap added, unwinding few more meters of a cable and passing it to his friend. Rhinox smiled, stripping its end. "I'll keep that in mind," he assured them. "Wouldn't like to suffer any more 'treasons'. "  
Optimus groaned inwardly. "Will you two ever stop rubbing it in? He came back all right, didn't he?"  
"Dat's just b'cause my superior survival skills are unmatched. Dere ain't a corner so tight I can't wriggle out of."  
Optimus and Rhinox just exchanged smiles, letting him gloat. A gust of wind blew their way, taking the rat's words with it. It tossed them here and there playfully, to finally whisper them in the ears of a lone patroller.

"...my superior survival skills..."  
Dinobot rolled his eyes. "This rat has no grasp on reality whatsoever," he said to no one in particular. A slight purr came in agreement. The raptor jerked his head in its direction and frowned. _She_ was supposed to be helping with repairs, not wandering around and interrupting his patrol. He told her so. She snorted and started sniffing at something, pretending he wasn't there. Interrupting? Who's interrupting? I just happen to be hunting nearby.  
Dinobot snarled, shrugged and went on. After a few paces he stopped. He checked the sky for a potential aerial attack. He scrutinized the trees for a probable land attack. He looked at the Axalon to make sure Rattrap hadn't blown it up yet. Kittar finally gave up the sniffing and gained on him. They resumed the patrol, and Dinobot reveled in silence. After being stuck with a ratty chatterbox, having a _silent_ company was truly refreshing.  
Some small furry creature crossed their path, almost getting a heart attack when Kittar snapped at it. She only did that for the sake of it, as the pray was way to small to be of any interest to her. She didn't follow when it squeaked and ran away.  
The animal's small heart was beating fast, as it raced out of harms way, the image of unknown predator burning in its mind. And as it happens, running away from one danger, it practically bumped into another. Fortunately for it, _this_ predator was a pacifist.

Tigatron looked after a quickly disappearing fluffy tail, gently rubbing his sore nose. He was a bit depressed. Part of him wanted to rejoin his 'blood sister' in the mountains, and part of him wanted to stay here and be a part of the team, but so far, he wasn't doing a great job of it. His problem was, that he didn't really feel too comfortable around people. He was a loner, but not in the same way as Kittar, who had 'leave me alone' written all over her, or Dinobot's 'been there, done that, killed it,' way. He was a shy type of a loner who just didn't really know how to behave in social situations. Example?  
Here it goes. When three solars back Dinobot announced that he's going to stay, Tigatron decided that he could stay too. But, contrary to the raptor, he didn't know how to break the news to the rest, so he just tried to sneak away on the sly.  
Example number two: when he saw Kittar jumping down the lift shaft, he assumed that she was doing exactly the same. He was extremely confused when she went back in.  
Example number three. He then wanted to a) ask her about that, b) explain himself, but he wasn't sure how to start, so he just bolted sheepishly.  
And example number four: today he tried to talk to the medic again, but he choose the moment when she was chewing on something, and the first thing that escaped his mouth was a protest against unnecessary violence. The effect was being the target for said violence.

He rubbed his nose again. He would have never suspected that a single punch from the small cat would hurt for so long. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice a shadow that flew over his head.

The creator of the shadow didn't notice Tigatron either. He was too busy thinking bitterly that there are some things flyers shouldn't be forced to do. For example, they shouldn't be forced to serve as messenger boys just because the radio system went off whack after changing ship's decor. They also shouldn't be sent out alone near the enemy's base, where all kind of accidents could happen. And most of all, they shouldn't be sent alone near the enemy's base where all kind of accidents can happen to check on the person who was recently really pissed off with them.  
Terrorsaur hovered above the patch of jungle his tracker had detected Rust in and surveyed it suspiciously.  
$$ Get down, slaggit, you're giving away my position! $$  
The flyer started at the voice coming from his comlink. "Where are you?"  
$$ Let me put it this way - if you crap, I'll get dirty. Come down. $$  
Yeah, right. "I'm perfectly fine up here." _Down there, I may not be_.

$$ Listen, bird, you are a red spot on a clear blue sky. You're more visible than dirt in the optic. Get DOWN! $$  
They argued about it some more, and finally Terrorsaur grudgingly terrorized and lowered his altitude, still scrutinizing the bushes for any wolfish activity. He stopped and hovered when he reached the first branches. If Rust thought he was going to land, then he--

A tree near him suddenly sprouted with hands, and the red flier disappeared, swallowed by a branch. His suddenly cut off screech rung throughout the jungle.

"Surprise!" Rust chuckled in an audio of a bot he was holding in a death-lock. A white face screwed up in effort, as its owner managed to move his head, freeing his mouth. "Let go of me!" snapped a robot-full of terrified bravado. "Your stupid fur tickles! And I'll be spitting with it for a month!"  
"Only if you'll make it to the next week, **my dear treacherous flyer**." The last four words were spoken in deep, cultured voice, and Terrorsaur craned his neck to look at the speaker with such confused expression, that Rust almost fell of the tree of laughter.

OoooooKeeey... good mood phase. It's probably safe to stay here. As long as he doesn't break the _'don't annoy the crazy person'_ rule. Terrorsaur made himself relax, and took a look around. They were sitting on the highest branch of the highest tree, and the reason why they were practically invisible to outside viewers was a blanket of twigs and leaves entangled in-- "Is this one of Tarantulas's webs?"  
"Yup. Now be a nice little armrest and hold still. And take this and type in the coordinates I give you." Rust shoved a datapad in flier's hands and rested elbows on his shoulders and binoculars on his head, paying no attention to grunted protests. He watched the Maximals for a while, and recited a row of numbers. Terrorsaur wrote them down, muttering something unflattering.  
"What was that?" Rust inquired.  
"You're fragging heavy," Terror growled. "And what is this scrap anyway?"  
"Exact location of auto-guns Maxis are fixing right now."  
"What? What do you need _that_ for?"

"Well, they've finally thought of masking them. The ones they've put up on the north are practically undetectable. If I didn't see them working on 'em, I wouldn't know they're there." _That's because you're not the brightest of bots_, the flyer said in the private chamber of his processor. And then he let his thoughts wander into the area of 'maybe if I pushed him of the branch, shot him few times and flew away, the Maxis would finish him off for me'. He toyed with the idea for some time.

"O'right, I think they're done." Rust straightened up to subspace binoculars, and Terrorsaur immediately jump at the occasion of getting away. Unfortunately he didn't take into consideration one factor. The factor being the viscosity of arachnids' products. Translation: spider webs tend to be sticky. With a mischievous chuckle Rust tugged at the makeshift camouflage net, yanking the flyer back to the branch. "You know, I was wondering how did it happen that your blaster was set on full power back there. Why don't we discuss it while you fly me back home?"  
Terrorsaur gulped.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The green energy blob enfolded Axalon, while auto-guns moved, locking on few fictional targets. Green fingers typed in new coordinates, and barrels moved accordingly. Rhinox nodded contently. "We're on," he said, shutting down the system. Then he moved to the self-inflicted duty he'd neglected lately due to a large amount of more urgent matters. The space radar flickered and showed a long row of small, artificial satellites. "All pods still in orbit," he reported.  
"All _remaining_ pods," Optimus corrected sourly. He still couldn't get over loosing three crew members. Four, if you counted Blackarachnia, which he did.  
Rhinox didn't need to be told what was bothering Optimus. "We still can find them," he said consolingly. "If undamaged, the pods can sustained them for two or three decades."  
"That's a rather big 'if'. Remember Tigatron's pod. And Kittar's must have been damaged too."  
"But, according to Rattrap, Blackarachnia's was untouched." "Rattrap's not a mechanic."  
Rhinox frowned and crossed his arms. "He may not have a CT-University diploma, but--" "I know, I know. I'm sorry." The lack of _formal_ education was a sore spot for both friends. Optimus scolded himself inwardly for poking it like that. He must have been more tired than he thought. The view on the screen gave him an excuse to change the subject, though it wasn't much of an improvement. "It's a small mercy _this_ one is still up there."  
Rhinox glanced at the radar. It was currently locked on a pod of a design different from the others. It was the only 'this century' piece of equipment they'd had on board. "I'd call it a very big mercy." "It would be big if it weren't there at all. Why did I ever agree to take this onboard?" "Because the Council wouldn't give you the deep space flight license if you didn't." "Right. I forgot."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere on the plains, one bot was enjoying himself, and the other was not.  
Rust had somehow managed to convert the camouflage net into a flyer-stuck hammock, and was riding in it, questioning his mode of transportation on the way. The mode of transportation found both things highly uncomfortable.  
"So you just forgot?"  
"That's right"  
"We were talking about it for about five solars non stop, Megatron told you about this five times in my presence only, **_I_** reminded you about it just a solar before, and you still forgot?"  
"Er... yes?"  
"You should have your databanks examined."  
Terrorsaur dropped a few meters in surprise. The wolf was actually buying it? He must be even dumber that he looked!  
"AND," Rust added, stretching luxury in the net, "I believe that to compensate for your... memory lapses, I should put an extra energy in remembering _everything._" And he grinned that wolfish grin of his.

...or not...

The rest of the way they were silent.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Optimus looked at the data and sighed. He'd tried to kill the time and relax a bit by doing something absolutely pointless and harmless, and what do you know, it turned out to be just as frustrating as anything else. "I don't get it. Where did we get Kittar from?" "From da lowest circle of da Pit. Why?" Optimus started at the accented voice. He didn't noticed when Rattrap came in. "I was looking through our crew's data, and she just isn't there. Our medic officer is a male, and no femme has a medical background, even as a second profession or a hobby." "Dat settles it. She's a Pred. Can I shoot 'er now? HEY!" The last part was a protest against being whacked upside the head by Rhinox. "She might have had a case of professional burnout and picked a less stressful profession. It happens." "Maybe. Well, it's not like it's important." Optimus closed the files on a technician assistant, who must have been Blackarachnia, and two ethnologists, whose psychology profiles showed vague resemblance to Tigatron's.  
It _was_ important, or at least, it _could_ have been important, but it was enough that he was troubled with it. No need to worry the others.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How come you're not pasted with this stuff!" Terrorsaur tugged at the net with disgust, to no avail. Every time part of it came off his torso, it stuck to his hand and vice versa.  
Rust chuckled viciously, walking through the corridor backwards, so that he could observe the disgruntled flyer trailing behind him. "The thing about cobwebs you should learn is that some of threads are sticky, and some are not." Which he himself discovered after effectively tangling himself in two of Tarantulas's webs and tearing apart other three.  
"But how do I get this off me?"  
"No idea. Go ask Tarantulas." For him, the high temperature bath did nicely, but he was not about to share this particular piece of knowledge. "OR Blackarachnia. Maybe she won't shoot you this time."  
GAH! How did this wolf know about it!  
"Or at least she won't call you... what was that again... a molten piece of sickening slag?"  
Arghhhh!

The door to the control room bulged and gave up under the weight of a package of red/blue aggression. The bot on monitor duty stirred. The day had been so boring until now!  
The speakers in the control room squeaked with static, and then filled the room with mocking, feminine voice.  
$$ I'm not going to date any of you, no matter how hard you fight over me $$  
"Dream on, widow," Rust snapped unconcernedly, continuing banging his opponent's head against the floor. And then he suddenly released him with a delighted gasp.  
"He made it!" He jerked up, snapping few web threads that stuck to him, and rushed to the thing he'd spotted, forgetting about everything else.

Terrorsaur picked himself off the floor, (leaving a bigger part of the net on it,) feeling almost insulted. He eyed critically the thing Rust was fussing over. It didn't look like much. Just a floater with modified control handles. And a jet engine attached. And an aerodynamic front plating. And few small stabilizing jets... The flyer tilted his head thoughtfully. Actually, the thing looked suspiciously similar to racers from Beta-Nova Tournaments.  
The similarity grew when the wolf-bot hopped on board and kicked the engine to life. He made a few rounds and danced in the air to get the feel of it, and grinned provocatively. "Wanna race? From here to the lowest level and back?" Terrorsaur edged to the relative safety of a corridor. "No thanks. I've already seen you hovering through the base, and I don't want to see it ever again."  
"Aw, come on, it will be fun!"  
"No! And the corridors are to narrow anyway!"  
"You're just scared."  
"I'm not!" And he was not going to be baited either. There were some things he wouldn't do under the pain of death, and flying at high speed in narrow spaces was one of them, along with walking willingly into the room smaller than his quarters, which wasn't big enough for his tastes anyway. He backed away.  
"Wimp!" Rust called after him, feeling thoroughly disappointed. Oh well... Competition could wait.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megatron growled. He was trying to work here, and something - or someone - was interrupting his concentration. What on Cybertron could have been making sounds like a jet parade inside the base? Pushing away from the console, he went through the ship in search for the source of distraction. Instead, the distraction found him.

Something zipped out of the corridor, yelped in surprise at his presence, made an improbably acute turn, succeeded in loosing most of the speed, brushed against the wall, the ceiling, and another wall, lost control, and split in two parts. One of them drifted for few more feet, then hovered calmly in the air, while the other crash-landed, skidded for a few meters and finally stopped at Megatron's feet.

Rust reflexively rolled and tried to get to his feet, decided it wasn't worth it, and blinked a few times to remove the static from his vision. The static disappeared, revealing a purple face with all too familiar frown on it. Ouch. Something most probably needed to be said.  
"I didn't do anything," his reflexes provided helpfully.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were some things predacon leaders shouldn't be forced to deal with. They were meant for much more important issues. And yet here he was, glaring at a delinquent scientist, with a very displeased look on his face. The recipient of the look shuffled his feet in discomfort. Megatron stroked his dino-hand thoughtfully. When he spoke, his voice was very calm. "I really would like to understand, Scorponok. What exactly had prompted you into building this... _thing_... for Rust?"  
The gray bot reset his voice-box nervously. "Well, he, ah, ask-- asked for it," _--several times_,_ over and over again--_ "and me thought he deserve it, cause, he," _--saved your life--_ "pull you out of river, and..." his voice trailed off. The silence reigned the room. Reminding a Predacon, especially Megatron, that he owed someone, was a very bad idea. Scorponok tried to erase a big mistake with a smaller one. "He kept asking for it," he said a bit lamely._ He just wouldn't shut up about it, until I blocked my comlink, and he was talking through the comlink because he spent almost entire two solar-cycles sitting in front of your CR-tank, with blaster across his knees, to make sure nothing funny would happen to you, and he had a point there, cause Terrorsaur was having that look on his face again, and I wasn't so sure about the spiders either..._

But he knew better than say it all out loud. He just waited in tense silence, until Megatron dismissed him. Phew...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rust entered his room rubbing at the fresh scorch and sulking. It wasn't fair to confiscate his racer, he didn't even destroy anything yet... He was about to snap angrily at his roommate, when his processor registered the way wasp's arms and wings were dropping. The kid was concerned about something...  
"Yo, what's up, wasp?"  
"Flower dying," Waspinator murmured. He shot Rust a look, half expecting some mocking remark, but the blue bot's face showed concerned, as he came closer to take a look at their pet plant. It didn't look so good, its shiny leaves sported few matted patches, and the pelts were wilted. "Maybe it needs feeding?" he asked uncertainly. "How do plants eat anyway?" Waspinator shrugged. How should he know? He only knew that the flower needed to be kept in dirt, because he spotted the rhino and the cat collecting plants that way.  
Rust tapped his chin thoughtfully, then shut off his optics. He stayed like that for a cycle or so, and growled impatiently. "Prime, just prime. The animal section was done by a novelist, and a plant one by some freaking cone-head!" He looked at the wasp-bot with irritation. "Do you know anything about chemistry?"  
Waspinator's wings fluttered anxiously, as he buzzed a cautious "Yezz?"  
Rust blinked. "You do?"  
Waspinator had to suppress the urge to stomp angrily. "Yes!" _I'm not stupid just because I talk like that!_  
"Ok, gimme an empty data-pad."  
"Not have."  
Rust sent a pointed look toward the ledge above wasp's bunk, toppling over with pads. Waspinator moved to shield his treasure. "They're full!"

Rolling his optics, the wolf-bot walked up to the shelf and pulled a pad out of one of his boxes, pulled out a cable and connected it to his temple. Downloading the file only took few nanos. He tossed the pad at the other bot, and watched as he spectacularly failed to catch it.  
_CRASH_  
Rust put a hand to his face, inspected the ceiling, inspected the floor, shook his head, and took out another pad, this time putting it on the table after the download. A bit ruffled, Waspinator picked it up, glanced at it and put it down. "What this marks?"  
"What? Oh, maxi alphabet, sorry." Rust took the pad back and downloaded the file again, this time putting it through the translator first. "It's from Maxis' Museum's databank," he said as an explanation.  
Waspinator read through the data and shifted. "Plants making food themselves," he said eventually. "And this formula how plant do it. This part izz water, and this what comezz from dirt... But Waspinator not know these symbols." He pointed few letters in the middle of the formula. "Maybe scorpio--nok or Tarantulas know?"  
Rust grinned and tapped his comlink. "Tarantulas, are you here somewhere?" The voice that filtered through was highly annoyed. $$ I'm busy! $$  
"Really? Well, I was wondering if I should tell our leader to take a stroll to the grid orion, walk past that weird looking tree, turn a bit to the east, and look for that group of five boulders--"

Tarantulas interrupted before Rust could describe the entire way to his lair. He'll have to block that entrance and make another. Blasted wolf. How did he know?  
"What do you want?"  
$$ Have a problem with some chemical symbols, can you read them for me? $$  
Grumbling, Tarantulas ordered the blue pestilence to load the formula in ship's main computer, looked at it thoughtfully and his mandibles formed a mischievous smirk. "These symbols are out of use for over a century, but the formula itself is very simple, really. It's a synthesis of simple carbohydrates, exploiting external sources of photons to attain the energy necessary to break and reestablish molecular bonds," he said, and waited for a dumbfounded 'huh?'

Rust gaped at the console. _HUH?_ But out of the corner of his optic he saw Waspinator nodding enthusiastically, so he said a sweet "Thanks" instead, and closed the connection. Then he gaped at his roommate. "You understood what he'd said?"  
Waspinator beamed and translated. Rust blinked. "So, basically, it just needs some light and water?"  
"Yezz"  
"Couldn't they write it that way! What's the slaggin' point of putting in all that science-jabber if it could be said in one sentence?"  
The beep from his comlink interrupted his ranting.  
$$ Rust, report to the control room $$  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot was coming back. And he was licking at his lips every now and then. And that most probably meant that he'd been eating something. And that meant, he'd been hunting. And that meant, he wasn't alone. And that meant... Optimus turned from the visual monitor. "Where's Rattrap?" he asked urgently. Rhinox checked the radar, a bit surprised by an alarmed note in Primal's voice. "He is--"

"I don't CARE if yer BACK! Get OFFA me!"

"--outside. Oh."  
Optimus was in the corridor already. "If anyone asks, I'm not at home."  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whistling quietly, Rust searched throughout the ship's databanks. He'd gotten a special task, 'since he now had a mode of transportation', and he needed some info. Energon storehouses, energon storehouses... Oh, come on, there _had_ to be something... Ah, here it is! Optimal capacity, maximal accumulation, safety measures, optimal temperature, common designs... perfect. He connected to the computer and downloaded it all.

&&&&

Watching the blue bot over surveillance system, Megatron smiled. He'd given an order, and the kid just said 'aye, sir,' and went to prepare for the mission on his own, not bothering him with hows or whys. Perfect. When he has Dinobot back, these two will be put together as a team, and the old warrior will be made responsible for keeping the young bot's temper under control. It will be a pure pleasure to command them. Oh yess.

------------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why do we _all_ have to be here again?"  
"In case we found energon, and Predacons found us." Which was happening a lot more often than he liked. So far, about half of their mining trips had ended with (#$) Megatron ($#&) getting the (&#$$) candy, as Rattrap eloquently put it.  
"Really? Well, ah, hate ta worry ya, but I think they've found us already," the small bot with the way-too-big mouth said, glancing at the person behind him. Dinobot snarled in response to his gaze, and after a nano they were deep in one of their 'genealogical disputes.' Optimus felt like banging his head against the cliff. And here he was hoping that the rat would break his record of not picking on raptor for a reasonable amount of time. Silly him...  
"Hey, what was that?" the young voice interrupted his thoughts.  
"What is it, Cheetor?" "I thought I saw something over there!" the spotted cat was looking at an opposite cliff's edge. "It was big, but it moved too fast to see it clearly." "Probably just an animal," Dinobot stated. "No way! It was ultra fast, and it gleamed like metal, and..." The young bot noticed the dubious expression on other's faces, and insisted all the harder. He was absolutely sure he saw _something_. Optimus transformed and took to the air, to come back after few cycles. "I didn't see anything. It could have been a shadow of some bird." Cheetor bowed his head dejectedly. "Yea, guess so..."

Up on the cliff, several hundred meters from where Primal had been looking for him, Rust shook off the thin layer of gravel he'd hidden himself under. He checked if his racer was all right, and reached for comlink.  
"Rust to base."  
$$ What, barely out of radar range, and you've got lost already? Poor doggy. $$  
"Keep trying, Widow, maybe you'll insult me before the century's over. And push off the line, I wanna speak with Megs."  
After a moment's pause, Megatron's deep voice asked what did he want.  
"The Maximals are on a family trip, sir. They're all here minus the cat and the tiger, and if I recall correctly, the ledge they're moving on is a dead end."  
$$ Excellent, yess! Relay the coordinates and proceed on your task. $$  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rust proceeded on his task. Behind him, a few interesting things happened.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a properly run universe, rockslides shouldn't happen. Or at least that was the opinion of bots digging themselves from under one. Highly annoyed, Megatron brushed himself off. "Flyers, check--," he fell silent and counted to ten. Waspinator was off-line, and with the way Terrorsaur's jet covers and wings were bent and dented, he wasn't flying in either mode anytime soon. "Scorponok--"  
The scientist reflexively stood to attention.  
"--check the Maximals' positions."  
A cyber-bee was launched, and after few cycles Megatron was given Maximals' coordinates and the formation they were moving in. The rhinoceros was guarding the rear...  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was amazing, how easily one was settling back into old patterns.  
Take target's bearings. Pick the spot. Prepare the syringe. Wait for the right moment. Strike. Go away as if nothing happened. Don't turn around to watch as an insignificant air-car waiting nearby picks up the stumbling target. Mission accomplished. Yet another inconvenient bot disappeared from the streets, never to be heard from again.  
Tarantulas stifled a chuckle, crawling along almost vertical cliff wall. Some changes were of course necessary. Never before he was able to incapacitate the target with a bite (that was an improvement), and the role of air-car was taken by Blackarachnia, coming right now from the base with a floater (that was a drawback). But he pushed the thoughts aside, because now was time for his favorite part.

A strike.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap had been the first to notice Rhinox's absence. He was also the one who found the spot where something bad must have happened. He was also the one who was now messing with his comlink with a determined look on his face. "If I could just patch in..." he murmured, trying to force the small communicator to work the way it wasn't designed for. "Got it!" He was about to say something more, when he heard the last voice he'd like to hear right now. Or anytime, to think of it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

One level of Rhinox's processor was spinning wildly, in search for a way out of this slag situation. The other was busy talking to Megatron. And small, but not insignificant part of it was trying to decide whether Megatron smiling politely was less or more annoying that Megatron _speaking_ politely. And then all of his cognitive functions dispersed, fleeing from the alien force that invaded his circuits, and when they came back, they were in different shapes entirely.

Rhinox was an extremely patient bot. The mild annoyances of everyday life could sail for days through the seemingly infinite ocean of his patience, without finding even the smallest isle of reaction. And the source for that ocean was a lurking deep down below the conscious levels confidence. He knew that there were no problems - or persons - that he couldn't beat, whether by physical or intellectual means. And because he knew that, he didn't have to prove that. What would be the point?  
But coming in a flash, in a nano-kliks when he was activating his optics, was an old/new, nagging question.  
Why the Pit not?  
If he knew better, if he _was_ better, and could beat the slag out of anybody who didn't want to acknowledge this, then why the Pit not? What, was he too weak or something?  
"Rhinox, terrorize!"  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap and Cheetor were staring at the comlink with matching grimaces of utter horror.  
$$ This a private club, or can anybody join? $$

-_Rhinox? Rhinox, buddy? That's you? That doesn't even sound like you! __  
_  
-_Rhinox? As a Predacon? __  
_  
-_Most ominous. We are badly outnumbered now_.

-_That voice! I know that voice! Oh Primus, we're in trouble now, we_... _We... are... NOT in trouble at all! Ha! _A smile slowly crept onto Optimus's face. _I almost pity Megatron!_  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megatron growled silently, tapping the keys. This should not have happened! And even if it would happen, then HE shouldn't be dealing with it. Where were those blasted spiders when they could actually be useful for a change?  
"There must be a malfunction in the image decompression protocol array," he said for the sake of the other bot present.  
"Gee, hope it's under warranty."  
Megatron narrowed his optics. The tone of voice was just a nano-slit from being disrespectful.  
_You shouldn't scrap him just yet, he's still too useful_, he reminded himself. So to resist the temptation, he sent the green bot away.  
But before he could focus on the problem again, the buzzing filled the air. Megatron shut his optics. It was so, so, so very tempting...  
_No, you shouldn't scrap him either._  
The wasp, oblivious to tyrant's thoughts and shorting temper, buzzed a cautious request for permission to install a high-photon lamp in his quarters.  
_Though on the other hand..._  
"Yes, yes, do it," Megatron snapped impatiently, to get rid of the little nuisance, and opened a link to his second. "Scorponok, what's taking you so long?" ...

"Scorponok?"  
Slag! Megatron stood up abruptly. Scorponok was the only bot he was absolutely sure would never deliberately neglect answering him; his silence could only mean one thing.  
There were troubles.  
With Waspinator trailing behind him like a puppy, the predacon leader went to find the gray bot, while his processor concocted a quite long list of possible disasters, and a very short list of suspects.  
_That flyer had better not have anything to do with that_, he thought grimly. _He'd better not_.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

'That flyer' was in awe. In little over a megacycle Rhinox had managed to disable half of base's systems, get rid of two Predacons and... 'acquire'... the help of one. Wincing slightly, Terrorsaur rubbed his neck. Blasted ex-Maximal certainly had a grip. Why everyone insisted on practicing violence on him? Well, at least this time he was getting his revenge on Megatron. If everything went right, that is.

"Hey! What are you doing here!" Blackarachnia glared at him with hostility. Terrorsaur shrugged. "You don't own the laboratory, I can be here if I want." He passed by her, picked up a random object from the desk and turned. She was still glaring at him, with her back to the door. Terrorsaur didn't bother hiding a smirk. It could only help. "And actually, I don't believe you have any reason to be here either. Didn't Megatron tell you to repair the monitor systems?" He walked up to her, and she backed away. "This is none of your business!"  
"I think it is. What would Megatron say if I told him you're plotting something behind his back?" It was a shot in the dark, but the change on her face told him he'd scored. He smirked again. "Of course, I could forget to tell him that..."  
Blackarachnia didn't even wait for him to finish. She knew, or at least she thought she knew, where it was going. She took two more steps back and raised her launcher. "I've already told you to slag off, you null-processored freak! You have ten nanos to get out of my sight, or you'll be spitting cyber-ve--"

A large hand grabbed her neck from behind and lifted her off the floor, while the other snatched the weapon out of her hand and fired it at her chest in one fluent movement.

"Now for Tarantulas," Rhinox said, dropping the limp body to the floor.

"Whatever you say," the flyer agreed nervously.  
Megatron had created a monster.

Tarantulas proved to be trickier than any of them expected. He didn't let Terrorsaur maneuver him like Blackarachnia did, quickly got suspicious and kicked the flyer out. They had to ambush him in the corridor, after he left his lab, and even then he didn't go down easily.  
He somehow wrenched himself free from Rhinox's grasp in split nano, and opened fire at the green bot without hesitation. Fortunately for them, he didn't notice Terrorsaur aiming at his back with Black's launcher.

"You've just earned yourself a very special piece of programming, spider." Rhinox growled to the unconscious form on the floor. Then he moved his gaze to Terrorsaur. "I must repair myself. You make sure the spiders don't cause trouble, and keep an eye on Megatron while I'm off." "Sure," Terrorsaur mumbled, shifting nervously.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was like a scene from a bad horror movie. The bots disappearing one by one, the lone survivor gone insane ("There's no one as fast as me-me-me!") and now this. With optics burning furiously, Megatron examined two spiders dangling from the ceiling in their own webs, incapacitated with their own cyber-venom. Seething, he shot the threads sustaining them and dragged them both to the CR-room, peeking suspiciously round every corner on his way.

Almost all tanks were silent, and it didn't look like anyone - or anything - was lurking among them, but he kept glaring around as he dumped his burden into repair liquid and checked the readings on the tank that was active when he came in. The readings weren't right. This should be Scorponok, right? And he was damaged almost four megacycles ago. So why the CR insisted that repairs had only been going for forty cycles?  
Megatron frowned and typed in an identification command.

Unit unknown?

Rhinox.  
Megatron mouthed few words he wouldn't allow himself in normal circumstances.  
But if here was Rhinox, where was his second?

He started activating all tanks, and one failed to come on line. A brief inspection showed that someone had disconnected the power wires in it. Megatron remedied that, in the meantime thinking up the most unpleasant things he was going to do with the bot responsible. But first things first.  
_BEEP_ "Waspinator, come in," a moment of silence. "Waspinator, are you functional?" No sound. "SHRAPNEL!" This time, the response came immediately.

$$ What do you want, Megatron-tron-tron? $$  
The combination of wasp's voice and this speech pattern was a killer.  
_And I thought he couldn't get any more annoying_, the tyrant thought gnashing his teeth.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

/_Click_/  
The muddy-colored rat fell to the ground, mouthing a curse. Stupid clamps, did they have to be so loud? What were they trying to do, get him killed? He crawled a bit further, and attached another bomb to the hull. All right, that should be enough. He looked back with an _OK_ gesture. A big clod of mud uncurled into a muddy-colored raptor, who nodded, and directed his attention at the nearest movement/organic detector. When it was turned away, he gave a sharp signal, and the rat darted away as fast as he could, until a beep of his comlink told him he should freeze. He looked back, and now it was his turn to signal Dinobot when it was safe to move. They've changed the roles three more times until they were safely out of auto-guns range.  
"You've had a great idea, Dinobot," Optimus praised quietly.  
"It wouldn't have worked if anyone was watching the monitors," Dinobot said matter-of-factly. _Megatron is getting worse by the day. He weren't making such obvious mistakes when we were working together_.  
"Yea, yea, great idea. How am I supposed ta transform with all dat stuff on me? It will silt up all my circuits!" Rattrap wiped some of the mud off his face and flicked it to the side.  
"Hey! Watch it!" "Sorry, kiddo. Didn't see ya dere."  
Optimus hushed them. Rhinox's comlink was still open, and so close to the predacon base they were getting a pretty clear signal. When it had barked with gunfire, he and Dinobot had to forcibly stopped two younger bots from darting headlong to the rescue. It had been quiet for some time, but now he thought he heard something... It could have been a brief conversation and a clang of feet, but it could have been as well just a bizarre interference. Optimus shook his head. "False alarm."  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scorponok stared at his feet. As soon as he'd woken up in CR-tank, he was told to report to Megatron by Waspinator, who seemed to be speaking even weirder than usual, though he couldn't be sure, not being a linguist himself. He'd obliged, of course.  
Megatron ordered him to sit down, which was a rare privilege, but it did nothing to boost his morale as it was supposed to, because he knew he didn't deserve it. He didn't dare to look his leader in the optic. He screwed up, he screwed up badly. He should have foreseen how reprogramming would affect Rhinox, it was so obvious when he was thinking about it post-facto. And how stupidly he let himself to be maneuvered under five tons of steel crates... He felt a rare wave of anger coiling inside him. Wait till he gets his hands on a bot who made him fail his leader so badly...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

How on Cybertron could have things gone so badly? And what the Pit got into Scorponok? What hit him? Where did the Maximals come from? What was that explosion? Where was he? Why he couldn't move? And just as he started to panic, a large piece of metal covering him was hurled aside, and _then_ he had something to _really_ panic about.  
Towering above him, covered in dents and singes, with energon trickling down his chest and optics burning furiously, was Megatron  
"Terrorsaur, there is something I'd very much like to share with you, yesss," he hissed, picking the flyer up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of smoke was the first bad sing. Following it, Rust found the second one, a.k.a. a trail of blown up auto-guns. At the end of the trail was a big hole in the wall. And behind it was...

"WHAT! (/$/) ($#/$) (/$ $$ )(#$&#$)! I WANTED to USE this thing! Who blew it up!"

No culprit volunteered his guilt. Growling like a chain saw, the blue bot steered his racer into the corridor and to the nearest spark detectable.

After a few cycles he had to admit he was baffled. Waspinator was in a CR-tank (again), Blackarachnia just snapped something about Maximals and scurried away looking extremely nervous, and Scorponok hid in his lab and refused to talk to him. What was WRONG with these bots? Scowling in disgust, Rust decided to find Megs. Halfway through the ship he detected two sounds. Tarantulas's cackle didn't move him, but Terrorsaur's screams did. Where the Pit were they, and what was going on? The 'where' was easy. One deck up, three intersections to the left. He zipped to the place where he knew there was a big chunk of a deck missing, left the racer hovering just a few meters above the lava and climbed up the wall. Once on the correct deck, he set off on padded paws to find the source of disturbing noises.

Tarantulas was leaning against the wall, cackling maliciously, with his optics locked on Megatron, standing few meters away. They never noticed a shadow among shadows approaching them, because their attention was entirely on a thing the screams were coming from.

Wolf's eyes lit up at the sight before him. An infamous predacon Torture Chamber. Wow. He didn't even know they had one on board. So... Sarge and Widow were most probably cowering, imagining they were the one inside, and Chuckles was laughing, probably imagining he was the one at the controls. How _limited_ of them. Rust sank to the floor with all his senses locked on the T-Chamber, and started imagining both.

&&&&

Oh Primus, how long had he been in here? It seemed like an eternity. There wasn't even a single circuit in him that didn't hurt, and every time he thought it couldn't get any worse, Megatron was turning another switch, proving him wrong. And his claustrophobia didn't help. Every time the pain subsided, he was passing out of fear, only to be snapped back on-line by another wave of pain. He'd screamed, he'd apologized, he'd pleaded, he'd begged, he'd sworn his undying loyalty, and all of this had been ignored. Now he didn't even have the strength to scream anymore-- A pain stabbed him, and he screamed. The sound was weak and ten times as scratchy as his voice normally was, and apparently Megatron found it satisfying, because needles retraced back into the walls, and the hatch opened. Terrorsaur leaned forward and gratefully fell on the wonderfully cool floor. Something poked him, and he groaned.  
"You may return to your quarters. Report to your post at dawn," boomed a voice above him, shortly followed by a spider's cackle. The flyer did his beast to mumble a confirmation, and continued lying, listening to the retreating footsteps. What he heard next was the worst sound he'd heard in his life. The footsteps were coming back.

_No!_

He scrambled to get away, and yelped at the surge of pain it caused.  
_No, no more, please..._

Large hands picked him up. "No, please!" he managed to croak.  
"Easy, it's me," a strange, gentle voice said soothingly.

Me who? Despite his circuits protesting at every movement, he tried to get a look at the bot holding him. His arm brushed against the fur, and he caught a glimpse of a blue light above. "Rust?" he asked uncertainly, trying to process it. "Wh-t -re yo- d-ing?" Slag, the strain didn't do anything good for his overheated voice box.  
Above him, Rust snorted. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked in his normal voice.  
How the Pit could he know how it looked like? He could barely _think_ at the moment! He let his head fall back and focused on the way before them. And then he struggled violently, when he realized Rust was carrying him towards the lava pits. "WHAT -RE YOU -OING!"

Rust stopped at the edge and looked down at him. A red glow from below added a purplish tinge to his optics, when he grinned like a fiend. "Guess," he said. And dropped him.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------

All in all, this day could have ended worse, even though Rattrap claimed that surviving Kittar's tender mercies spoiled it entirely. (The femme became unusually talkative when she saw what state they came back in. Though scold-ative would be a better word. And the fuss she made over Rattrap's and Dinobot's muddied joints was exaggerated even in Rhinox's opinion.) But lying near their favorite pond, under a blossoming bushes and watching the sunset, he felt like he was in... "Heaven," Rhinox sighed contently.  
Optimus smiled, not opening his eyes. Rattrap nodded in lazy agreement. Even Dinobot didn't counter; curled in a ball, he looked almost relaxed, maybe thanks to the fact that Optimus was lying between him and Rattrap, so the two didn't have an occasion to begin a quarrel.  
Rhinox inhaled the sweet smell of flowers and smiled. Life was beautiful.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------

They say that when a bot is about to die, his databanks go crazy and disgorge all his memories in one go, and when he is actually _dying_, one random image from his past life hovers behind his optics, dominating his private universe.

Terrorsaur's private universe was dominated by one intense image, but if it was from his past life, he didn't recognize it. It was red. It shone. It was hot. It had a spot of a strange shadow on it. It was rushing at him at a terrifying speed. His jets were out, and all he could do was screech in helpless panic. And then the surrounded with a red glow shadow expanded, filling his entire field of vision, and hit him.  
The flyer groaned, gathering his wits. What happened? He was lying on something metal, and that something was rocking slightly. He moved, the thing rocked harder and he started slipping off it. With a clang, something landed next to him and a hand grabbed him.  
"What are you shouting about?" Rust asked innocently, pulling him back to the safety of racer's platform. Terrorsaur blinked tiredly few times.

"----ate you."  
Rust chuckled. "No you don't. Not yet." And he kicked the engine.  
"Aa-aAArgh- Ha-e you--ate-y-o a-aaGh -ate you -ate yo- aAAAaa-agh hate -ou -ate you both!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"_Din-dong_. Quarters level. Thank you for choosing 'Rusted Racers' for your travel needs."  
Terrorsaur slid off the platform with one last, weary "-at- you."  
"You know, I believe you do," Rust agreed, picking him up. He carried the unresponsive heap of red metal to Terror's lodgings. "Sweet dreams," he said, closing the door. And then he headed back.

The air still spoke of the flyer's torment. Rust marveled at the smell of overheated metal and various chemicals for a moment, then terrorized and went over to the control panel. He ran his fingers across the switches. What's it like, to hear someone's screams and have the power over these screams? He's optics dimmed dreamily.  
And what's it like to be the one at the wrong end of it?  
He brushed the correct button, and the hatch hissed open. He traced his hand from controls to the Chamber itself, and slipped inside. Something like a skeleton of an armchair occupied most of the space. Rust sat in it carefully. The air was dry, and the stench of hot metal was overwhelming. He clenched his hands around armrests, and smiled. Lots of bots must have been doing that before him, 'cause the metal was dented where his fingers touched.

The hatch suddenly closed with a thud, and energy bonds snapped in place, binding him to the chair. "Hey!" he protested. Someone was going to be very sorry! He was going to-- he yelped when a set of needles shot out of the walls, puncturing his metal. The next moment, he felt some foreign substance being forced into his fluid system, and the needles placed in the strategic spots of his neuronet started to heat up. Ah, so that's how the thing works... He growled, consulted his scanner, and scowled. _Having fun, Megs?_  
He apparently had. The pain increased, and Rust howled, putting an extra effort in it, just for Megatron's benefit. After a few cycles the hatch opened, and the dark silhouette appeared in it.  
"I believe you are the first bot ever who entered that machine willingly, yess" a deep voice said. In the darkness of chamber, one optic lit up. "That's possible."  
"And may I ask why did you do that?" The second blue spot joined the first one. In their mild light corners of Rust's mouth twitched. "I was curious." "I trust your curiosity had been satisfied." "Yup."  
In one fluid movement the young bot stood up, but since there wasn't enough room for him to straighten up fully, and Megatron was blocking his way out, he had to grab the hatch edges and freeze in an extremely unsteady position. It would only take the slightest push from the bigger bot to send him back into the world of pain. Rust grinned at his leader, and his optics brightened with a wayward daring. _Will he, or will he not torture me further?_

Megatron took a step back, letting Rust out. "I will await your report," he said, "AFTER you take this thing outside, yess." He pointed at the racer, hovering nearby. "You are forbidden to use it inside the base."  
"What? Why? I didn't even crush into anything!" The tyrant's face twitched, and Rust's self-preservation took over. "Aye sir," it said with a half-decent salute. The rest of him scowled at it inwardly. _Aft-kisser_...

Megatron departed, and Rust started towards the racer. His overheated circuits protested, and he stopped. He took a few deep breaths in this special, practiced way he had, that made the cooling process more efficient, and looked back at the T-Chamber. It could make a bot scream himself off-line, but didn't inflict any true damage. A good coolant could probably remove any aftereffects in a matter of cycles, and freshly disciplined bot could be sent into a fight right away. Nasty, truly nasty thing. But...  
"I've had worse," he murmured, starting the engine. He breathed again, feeling the throbbing pain fading away. "I've had much worse."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

His report put Megatron in a good mood (though the double T-Chamber session might have helped), and he wasn't given anything new to do. And since Scorponok was busy designing something again, he neglected to change duty roster. As a result, Rust found himself with an undetermined amount of free time at his disposal.  
&&&&

Running a standard check-up on his troops (Tarantulas missing again, this spider was just asking for trouble) Megatron stopped to stare at one monitor. After a moment he opened a link.

_BEEP_ $$ Rust, _what_ are you doing? $$  
The blue bot looked at the soldering iron in his hand, then at a patched up wall, and then at the camera. "Is this a tricky question? Sir?" After a moment's silence a calm voice responded. $$ I intended to leave this particular chore for Terrorsaur. $$

"Oh." Rust looked at the wall again and grinned. "I can blow it up again if you wish," he said hopefully. He could steal some point charge's from Tarantulas, place them in a pattern and detonate them so it would look like--  
$$ No. Finish your work. $$

Awww...  
"Aye sir," he sighed, disappointed. "But I'm done already."  
$$ As I recall, this wall was painted, yess. You would do well to restore its original appearance. $$  
This was a pure maliciousness on Megs part, but it was lost on Rust, because he actually _liked_ painting. Especially that he'd found himself a set of spray cans, and the only problem he had was to suppress the urge to 'improve' the original decor. Actually, he thought, watching the paint dry, why restrain himself?

&&&&

"Oy, wasp, you're here?"  
Waspinator raised his head, reflexively hiding a datapad.  
"What Rust want?"  
"Oh, nothing. I just thought that this room is a little boring. Didn't you?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark. Really dark. So dark he couldn't see anything. Where was he? What happened? Why was it so dark?  
Just as he started to panic, his optics flickered on-line. Oh. Right. He stared ahead.  
A ceiling. Non-descriptive. A wall. Non-descriptive. A poster of 'Stellar Killer IV'. Ah, his own quarters. So far so good.  
No hangover. Even better.  
Wait. Why was he expecting a hangover? ... Oh _shoooot_.  
Terrorsaur groaned, as the memories of the past day waved, beaming at him happily. Ok, a resolution. Never, ever again try to kill/overthrow/double-cross Megatron if you're not ABSOLUTELY sure it won't backfire. And sabotaging the Torture Chamber may be in order. Anything else?  
...  
Rust. Ugh. Slag, slag, slag. He gave him a fright of his life, but if it wasn't for him, Terrorsaur would have spent the night on the floor in front of the T-chamber, and it wasn't exactly the place he'd like to wake up, especially if Megatron happened to be near. Rust spared him that experience. Manipulative wicked bastard! Of all the bots to own a favor to... But if he didn't want Rust to call it at the worst possible time, he should clear it straightaway. Reluctant and ruffled, he headed to the hellion's lair.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Thizz Wazzpinator'zz wall!"  
"I just need a little bit, push off."  
"Rust can do his splashes on ceiling. Wall's Waspinator's!" A small poke. "Are you criticizing my graffiti?" A back-poke. "Waspinator paints better" A push. "Oh yea?" A back-push "Yea" Push. "Says who?" Push. "Sayzz me". Push. Push. Push.

It was hard to say which one of them reached for the heavier weapon first, but once it was used, there was no coming back...  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lock on Waspinator's and Rust's shared room's door was permanently broken, because Rust was too impatient to meddle with codes every time he was going in or out, so Terrorsaur just pushed the door aside and stepped in. The sight that met his optics made the grumpy question die on his mouth.  
Primus! What happened here! A carpet-bombing over a paint factory was the first thing that sprung to mind. Only after a moment of shocked silence he managed to perceive two familiar shapes among the colorful mayhem on the floor. He approached the inert bodies carefully. None of them reacted, and Terror felt a surge of horror creeping into his processor, as he stepped into something wet and sticky.  
If they'd somehow killed themselves... And if anybody spotted him on the spot... _After yesterday_...  
He started backpedaling very slowly, and just then two pair of optics shone below.  
"Waspinator seezz single-color!"  
Two armed hands raised off the floor.

"DIIIIEEEE, single-color!"

"GAH!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some indescribable noise was coming out of the corridor _again_. Megatron turned his floater-chair to observe it, charging his weapon, thinking mildly whom would he get to shoot this time, a blue-gray nuisance, or a red-silver pain in the circuits.  
And then his jaw dropped slightly in surprise. What were these things that barged into the control room? He was absolutely sure that they weren't his troops, because he knew his troops, and none of them were this shade of... rainbow.  
One thing, laughing madly, had four paws.  
One thing, giggling madly, had a set of insectoid wings.

And the thing hot on pursuit after the first two, screeching death treats, could be recognized as Terrorsaur, save for two big patches of green and pink on his sides.  
Shaking off the shock, Megatron raised his dino-hand.

The multicolored wolf yelped in surprise as a laser hit the metal floor in front of him, jumped over the next shot and terrorized, coming to a halt. The next nano two other bots bumped into him, and all of them landed on the floor in a tangle. They scrambled to their feet, the flyers noticed the cause of distraction, and it was amazing just how silent they became.  
Megatron just glared, though the effect was slightly spoiled by the fact that he dimmed his optics to minimize the assault on his sensors. How did this shade of pink made its way to his ship?  
After a moment of awkward silence Rust stepped forward and saluted. "Morning, sir," he said brightly, even though technically it wasn't morning yet, and the situation wasn't very bright either.  
Megatron narrowed his optics, not entirely in anger. Those colors were a killer. Was this green? He didn't know that green could be an offensive weapon...  
"Would you care to explain your appearance?"  
And this shade where pink and yellow met, he didn't even want to think about.

Rust glanced down at himself.  
"Well, I've been repainting our room--"  
"Wazzpinator painting too," buzzed the flyer behind him, and Rust smiled slightly.  
"Yes, and we argued about it a bit." He looked at himself again. "A lot," he amended.  
"I see." _Though I'd rather not_. "And what was Terrorsaur's role in this?"

The mentioned bot cringed under tyrant's gaze. Rust glanced at him over his shoulder, as if a bit surprised to see him there. "Oh, he just got caught in between us."

The purple bot's gaze slid over the trio and skipped to the side in self-defense.  
There were some things he just shouldn't have to deal with. Why was he even bothering?  
"Clean yourselves and report to your duties," he snapped and went back to the things he was working on. Behind him the gruesome group retreated quietly. Gritting his teeth, Megatron opened channel to Scorponok's lab.  
"Scorponok, make sure that when Rust isn't needed for specific appointments, his roster is full, with only three mega-cycles break for recharging. And preferably, use him for tasks _outside_ the base."

&&&&

"Ruzzt?" "Mhm?" "Tubs can clean wall paint?"  
It turned out to be a very good question. Especially that the answer was negative.

&&&&

_Beep_ $$ Hi sarge, do we have something to remove a wall paint off a transformer? $$  
Scorponok scowled. "Solvent is in closet, you kn--"

$$ I've found it, but it's not enough. $$  
"Not enough for what?"  
$$ Check the bathroom screen $$

Frowning, Scorponok switched on the monitor, and choked. A multihued rust-shaped specter grinned and waved.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you want?" It was more a demand than a question, and was beyond any doubt directed at once again blue Rust.

"Huh?"

Terrorsaur crossed his arms. "You've helped me yesterday. What do you want?"  
For a split nano Rust looked confused, but then he grinned broadly, and his optics gleamed.

In just a split nano Rust managed to direct a long row of curses at his own carelessness and forgetfulness, at Waspinator's presence, and at Terrorsaur's bluntness. And then he decided to have some fun.  
"I want you to go to Megatron and tell him what a wonderful leader you think he is."  
"WHAT?"  
"What, too difficult? Ok, so you can write a poem for Blackarachnia and recite it through the intercom instead."  
Waspinator giggled. "Rust make terror-bot be test subject for Tarantulas." The spider had recently asked for a flyer volunteer.  
Terrorsaur growled and turned to leave. "Screw you, freaks."  
/_BLAM_/  
In a sudden silence Terrorsaur contemplated a deep hole in the wall in front of him. He could feel a scorched paint on his helmet, where the shot seared past his audio. If that was a warning shot, he didn't want to know what a serious one would feel like. He turned around slowly.  
Rust was watching him above the smoking barrel. His mouth was smiling friendly, but his optics were not.  
"Lets get serious. What I want is you to stop having stupid ideas, and to concentrate on fulfilling that service warrant you've singed. And as long as you're on your best behavior, I'll be making sure you're not deactivated." Sparkles of a mischievous smile came back to his optics. "Neither by me, nor anybody else. Deal?"  
Terrorsaur glared at him, trying to look impassive. Stupid ideas, huh? Rust was going to pay for this one... but what the shock, he'd only just decided to drop it himself... for the time being... so he was loosing nothing and gaining someone to guard his back. He shrugged.  
"Deal."

----------------------------------------------------------------  
----------------------------------------------------------------  
----------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: If you are curious how Rust and Kittar look like, check out www dot bwint dot net slash syntiaart.htm  
Rust: Yes, do this! I look great! I'm handsome!  
Syntia: and modest, don't forget modest. /_shakes her head_/  
All right, bugger dignity. /_kneels and begs_/ Reviews! Please give me some reviews!  
--------


	9. All about sparks

A/N: Thank you ever so much for reviews, LadyStarscream, Cargo-Cache and Architeuthis! I love you all!  
About Abyssinian cats: they are not a modern breed - they'd remained pretty the same since ancient Egyptians worshipped them, and I figure there must have been something pretty similar lurking in Africa a million years ago as well. If not... fiction, remember? ;D

Er, sorry for lack of creativeness in this chapter - the next one is episode-free ;)  
The grammar... /_sigh_/ I'm working on it.

_Disclaimer: Kittar and Rust: mine. The rest: someone else's._

part nine  
**All about sparks**

_Sparkles creatures are not reliable. Young-spark creatures can be violent. Sparks make a good subject for a boy talk ;)_

_-_

_-_

_-_

The sudden electronic screech from the radio almost made Rattrap fell off the chair. Before he regained his balance, the static noises turned into a rumbling voice.  
$$ Rhinox to maximal base, do you read me? $$ "Wow, Rhinox, good ta hear ya, buddy! What's da news in insanely high and frozen places?" $$ /_chuckle_/ I'm using half a day's energon ration just to keep my servos from freezing, but Tigatron is faring very well. $$ "Huh, no wonder, wit' dis fur coat. An it looks like yer laser communicator's working pretty good." $$ Mhm. I'd like to run few more tests before I go back. $$ "No problemo, I'll be here when you call. At least as long as dat red spawn of a demon is out, dat is." There was a sound of two persons trying not to laugh. $$ Till the next call then. Rhinox out. $$  
--------------------------------------------------------------

To be perfectly honest, Megatron had allowed Tarantulas to experiment with cloning just to have something to occupy his mind after the reprogramming fiasco.

Tarantulas, on his part, was plain bored; he didn't have anyone to talk to at the moment, the few devices he'd been working on lately maliciously refused to activate, and he didn't want to think about anything that started with an 'a' and lived in a deep space. So he pulled an old project out of a recycle unit to have a small break. Though he rolled his optics at Megatron's choice of subject. It bordered on an obsession, really. The transmuter had been built especially for Dinobot too.  
Well, it _was_ a good idea, and he intended to use it to his own advantage. If only Megatron hadn't changed the plans just because an opportunity to capture the rhino arose... Stupid lizard.

Tarantulas let the tyrant meddle with the ready equipment, while he himself withdrew to the safe distance. It always paid off to put someone else between you and the prototype machinery. They tended to be unstable.

And, being a prototype and unstable, the cloning sphere short-circuited and broke, but not before it fulfilled its purpose.  
Megatron laughed. "Success!"  
Scorponok, being only a backup scientist in this endeavor, was less than enthusiastic. "Very impressive. But, uh, what do we need him for?"  
Megatron surveyed the waking creature with a deceptive smile. He didn't actually plan anything beforehand, but now the answer seemed obvious. It had a word 'infiltration' in it, and the clone eagerly assured them it would be a piece of energon crystal. Then something small darted along the wall, and the clone jumped after it so suddenly, that Blackarachnia yelped and almost fell off the floater. Terrorsaur, ever so helpful, pulled her off it completely, just so he could fly her to the safety of the floor.  
/_Whack_/ "Get your hands off me!"

Rust snorted quietly at flyer's equally quiet cursing, but his optics didn't left the brown creature, that at the moment was gobbling down a hunted rat.  
"It doesn't resemble him much."

Everyone stared at him, the clone included.  
"It's _identical_ to Dinobot!" Scorponok finally said.  
"Is not! His voice is lower pitched and more harsh, he moves differently, he even has a different stripes pattern!"  
The stares wandered to the clone, then went back to him.  
"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you can't see it! And it doesn't even have a spark, one scan for life signatures and it's fried!"  
The stares remained in place. Finally, Rust shrugged. "Whatever." He looked away. "I bet they're not gonna fall for it," he murmured.  
"Really? What's the stake?"  
The blue bot glanced at the red one and grinned. "You name it."  
"The looser swaps six megas of patrol for winner's monitor duty," Terrorsaur said immediately, extending a fist. Rust punched it in acceptance. "Deal."  
_Sucker_, they both thought.  
"Terrorsaur, Rust," Megatron's voice boomed above them. "Since you're getting along so well, you will go to remove the original Dinobot from the picture, yess." He considered it for a moment and added, "preferably without terminating him."  
----------------------------------------------------------

"Why do I always have to work with him?" the pterodactyl murmured, flopping through the air just above the wolf's head.  
"One: two times does not make an 'always', and two: you're a treacherous little worm who can't be trusted, and I'm a perfect bot to keep an eye on you," Rust informed him cheerfully, and, true to his word, he kept an eye (both eyes, even) on the flyer almost the whole way, which was rather unnerving in Terrorsaur's opinion. "Stop staring at me," he snapped finally.  
"Give me something better to look at, then."  
"How about a pair of uglies?"  
"Huh?" Rust followed his companion's gaze, and sniggered. "Don't be mean, not everyone can have our looks. And get down before they see you."

&&&&

Dinobot narrowed his eyes and looked around inconspicuously. The movement he spotted didn't appear again, but...  
"Hide," he ordered, not allowing his steps to falter one bit. Few meters away, Kittar raised her head to glance at him curiously, and then disappeared among the boulders.

&&&&

Rust smirked. "He spotted us."  
"How do you know?"  
"He stopped checking where the cat is. My guess is, he told her to hide to have her out of the way."  
"So now what?"  
Rust shrugged. "We follow your plan."

&&&&

It was so obviously a trap, that Dinobot felt insulted. Did Megatron seriously think he would blindly rush into the cave after the flyer? Pathetic. He stepped inside slowly, adjusting his vision to the darkness and searching for any sings of other Predacons or booby traps. He found none.

Outside the cave, the wolf transformed and outstretched his arms at the cave entrance's sides. He waited patiently, glaring at the warrior's back.  
_Will he, or will he not look back?_  
He didn't.

With a trademark screech, Terrorsaur shot out of the narrow opening up on the mountainside. Rust couldn't see it, but the flyer's optics were closed. He only opened them when he felt the sun on his face.  
_Primus, I hate flying in caves_...  
He somersaulted and did a spin dive just for the feel of it before he turned to shoot at the cave.  
"Show off," Rust murmured with an approving grin, launching all his grenades. (He had eight, if you're curious).

"Rust in peace, old-timer," Terrorsaur sneered, and this was when things went wrong.

Rust with a yelp landed on the ground, with a laser burn on his shoulder, and Terrorsaur was hit by something yellow, that lunged at him from the mountain slope.

A pain in his back, his angered screech, two shots from his shoulder cannons.  
A pained scream, a soft noise of transformation.  
The gravitation claiming both him and his attacker.

Terrorsaur choked as he hit the ground and his back flared in pain. He registered a limp cat falling straight at him, then there was a shot from the side and the cat was shoved out of his field of vision. He stood up with a grunt, and stumbled in the direction where the Maximal fell.

Rust's optics widened in alarm. "Terror, don't move!"

'I'm gonna tear her apart with my bear hands' was what the flyer intended to say in response, but he only got as far as 'gonna', and then he fell to his knees, fighting a sudden dizziness. "Wha-- what?.."

"Told you not to move!" Rust came to stop by his side. Oh slag, what was he supposed to do? The flyer's back was drenched with energon, but he couldn't see any wounds... No wait, here it is! A single, narrow slit, just below the neck. The energon was pouring from it.  
A moment's hesitation, and Rust's fingers pried into the gap, closed around the edge and pulled. Terrorsaur screamed something extremely rude, but Rust didn't pay attention, 'cause now he could see what the problem was.  
"What the (&#$) is your main energon vessel doing on your back!"  
"Powering my jets, you moron!"  
"Right now it's cut open and leaking you to death, STOP moving!"  
Blue fingers plunged into the wound, trying to keep the cut edges of a tube together. Slag it, slag it all, how do you stop a major leaking like this?  
"Slow down your fuel pump and stop moving," he ordered, with a free hand reaching for the Emergency Kit. And, because he'd been ordered to inform Megatron of the outcome immediately, he also activated his comlink.  
----------------------------------------------------------

Megatron listened to Rust's report, smirking at Terrorsaur's whines in the background. He ordered the duo back to base, and turned to the clone.  
"It is time for you to do your worst. Go!"  
The creature smirked. "As you command, mighty Megatron," it said and stalked of.  
"He's so much more pleasant than the original," the tyrant commented, looking after him with a smile of a proud papa.  
----------------------------------------------------------

"Now aren't you glad we have a deal?"  
"Slag off," a muffled voice murmured.  
"You're amazingly talkative today."  
"Slag off," a muffled voice murmured.  
"And to think I left my racer at home."  
"Thank the Primus," a muffled voice murmured.  
The wolf stopped to look at the pterodactyl slumped on his back. "What was that supposed to mean?"  
"That Platform of Death is the last thing I wanna see," the flyer murmured in muffled voice. And then he tucked his beak deeper under his wing, closed his eyes, and slipped off-line. Rust rolled his eyes and went on.  
----------------------------------------------------------

In a dark cave few stones rattled on a side of a large pile, and the next nano Dinobot burst from under it with a roar. He shook himself off, beastmoded to save energy and enhance internal repairs, and took a look around. The cave-in trapped him in here for good. He growled. The ambush's purpose obviously hadn't been to terminate him, but to detain him for whatever reason, and he was angry with himself for stepping right in it. And without putting up a fight too. True, he'd managed to shoot at Rust just before the ceiling gave in, but he wasn't sure if he scored. He tapped his talons, and then started looking for a way out.  
It presented itself pretty quickly, with a faint, bluish glow emanating from the cave's wall. A small vein of energon. A hopelessly unstable, useless energon. Dinobot wrenched few crystal off the wall, and felt them prickling with a wild energy itching to get free.  
Perfect.  
----------------------------------------------------------

The mountain grumbled at yet another explosion at its side. Dinobot grumbled, pushing himself through the created opening. At times like that he truly regretted his frame wasn't a bit smaller. Once outside, he beastmoded again, and a sharp smell he felt made him tense for a brief moment. Energon. Not a raw energon he was handling just a few cycles before, no. This was a sickening stench of a live energon, from transformer's fluid systems. He gritted his teeth, and stalked slowly toward the source of the smell, knowing already what he'd find.  
It looked even worse than he thought. The puddles of silvery energon were splashed all over the place, stained with few swirls of dark mech-fluids. Dinobot contemplated them in silence. This massive energy loss for someone so tiny... It wasn't his responsibility to keep her safe, but still...  
"I've told you to hide, cat," he said finally. And, being done with goodbye, he started toward the base. A spec of color nearby caught his optic.

----------------------------------------------------------

"A lousy job," Scorponok commented, inspecting the repairs Rust had applied on flyer's wound. The young bot shrugged. "It's not like I've ever had to patch anyone up before. He'll be all right?" "Yes. A minor repairing and re-energizing is all he needs. You are to check on clone's progress. His beacon frequency is 9462,88." Rust nodded, stuffing new grenades in his launchers. "I'll be on my way in a cycle. Emm, sarge... you think Dinobot will join us again if we get rid of the Maximals?" "Probably. Why?" "No reason," Rust assured, trying in vain to hide a smile of a fiendish kind. "I'll report if anything interesting happens."  
--------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap carefully peeked down. A glimpse of a bubbling lava flow bellow made him shudder. "Talk about your Pit," he threw over his shoulder. He didn't get any response, and shook his head, scrambling onto a log, conveniently spanning the chasm. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something really wrong with Dinobo-- the log shook violently.  
"HEY!"  
Dinobot smirked and kicked at the unsteady bridge again.  
"What are ya doin'!"

"I should think it would be obvious..." Another kick, and the log disappeared in the chasm, taking Rattrap with it. The clone looked after him. "...even for a Maximal." Then he jerked his head up, as a gray blur reached the opposite cliff edge.

The wolf gaped first down, and then up at him. "Neat," he said with a mixture of surprise and admiration in his voice. "So who else is to deal with?"  
" /_snarl_/ Optimus at the base, and Cheetor somewhere in the area."  
"OK, cool, so go back and get rid of the ape, I'll keep an eye for the cheetah." As soon as the raptor stalked away, Rust jumped to his feet. During their brief conversation his gaze had slid down to the glowing flow few times, and he noticed what the clone overlooked.  
So now he ran along the cliff edge, looking down with bright eyes and mouth half opened in excitement. A lava surfing!  
_I **got** to try it sometime!_  
After a while he realized he was muttering directions. "Left, to the left, now on that rock to the right, NO, to the _right_, you stupid rat!" He chuckled at his spectator instincts and shut up, but he still followed the unwilling competitor, until he decided to blow this joint - literally.  
The wolf's head jerked up as a rock-rocket zipped out of the chasm.  
"WOW!"  
_I gotta try **this** sometime!_

----------------------------------------------------------

_--Code incorrect--_  
"Argh!" the clone threw his hands up in frustration. Anything else aside, he'd got zapped five times already. Lashing his tail angrily, he stalked to the radio and activated an open channel on a predacon frequency. Being only equipped with a small beacon, he lacked other means of communicating with his master. The message wouldn't be coded, but he doubted Maximals were listening - they had problems of their own.  
"Megatron, the defense system requires deactivation code, I do not know it."  
The resulted commotion startled him, which only showed how little he knew about Predacons.  
$$ Just hack into their system, and... $$  
$$ Wazzpinator knew lizard-thing would... $$  
$$ Try kicking the computer, maybe... $$  
$$ Whose bright idea was it to send that... $$  
$$ You may need to access the computer core directly... $$  
$$ Move your tail, 'cause Rattrap's survived, and when he tells Optimus... $$  
$$ SILENCE! $$  
A brief silence followed.  
$$ Rust, stall Optimus. Scorponok, instruct the clone. The rest of you - off the line! $$  
----------------------------------------------------------

"Rattrap's trail ends here." Cheetor's worried face turned to Optimus. "You don't think he..."  
"No. No, Dinobot said they've crossed the chasm, though I don't know h--"

/_swoosh_/ "iiiiiiIIIiiiieeeeeee!" /_THUMP_/

"Jumping gyros, what was that?"  
"I'll check it, you--" The cheetah disappeared among the rocks. "--wait here," Optimus ended with a sigh and took off. It took them few cycles to locate the crush site. Something just started moving among the rubbles.  
"Rattrap? Rattrap! Are you okay?"  
Rattrap got to his feet, paying no attention to Cheetor and brushing himself off. The action was accompanied by a low sound, which, as Optimus slowly realized, was an angry, muttered monologue. "...when I lay my hands on 'im..."  
"Rattrap? What happened?"

The small bot looked up at him. "I've TOLD ya, ya can nevah trust a Pred! Dat (#&!#$) son of a (!&$#) tried to scrap me!"  
A sudden laugh made them all jump.  
A wolf grinned down at them from the top of a rock. "Neat. I didn't know that one," he said, in a voice full of laughter, and jumped out of sight almost immediately. Quite a wise move, considering the fact that the spot he left was pulverized with firepower a split nano later.

Frowning and gnashing his teeth, Optimus gestured the other two to split up and search, and then called out. "How did you force Dinobot to work for you?" he wasn't really interested in an answer, he just hoped that Rust would respond and give away his position. His hopes were only fulfilled halfway.  
"We didn't." Optimus half turned and pointed in one direction, while Cheetor gestured in another. Rattrap looked at them both as if they were dumbos, and indicated an entirely different way.

"You know, you dumb Maxis have lost me a bet!" the wolf's voice sounded, and all of them shifted, pointing the way where the voice came from... Each of them a different one.

Rust put his muzzle close to the ground in front of a hollow rock. "I don't believe you didn't notice we've sent you a copy!" The complaint sounded all around him, and he grinned at his own mastership. An echo was a wonderful invention.

Optimus gave up on sound-hunting and took to the air, while Rattrap and Cheetor wandered between the rocks, weapons ready.  
"I mean, he doesn't even _look_ like Dinobot. He doesn't even have a _spark_. What kind of an idiot wouldn't recognize a sparkles clone?"

"You talk to much!" Cheetor yelled, jumping round a corner and sweeping the ground with blasts. Then he made a surprised face, when it proved to be free of any irritating canines.

Rust chuckled. "Can't resist, it's a bad-guys' trait." He navigated carefully around Rattrap. "Besides, I can babble all I want, 'cause our clone is in your base right now..." the rat-bot was tilting his head, tensed and ready to fire, but he was gazing in the wrong direction. Rust bored into his back with his eyes, sneaking closer. "...alone..." he finished sentence in a whisper, and then yelped and hurled himself backwards, as Rattrap span in place and shot him in the face.

"Gottcha."  
A lifetime spent in narrow alleys and mines' corridors can have its benefits. Rattrap was accustomed with echoes; Rust's sound plays didn't fool him for a nano.

"That's mine line," Rust complained, getting his feet under him and beating a retreat, as Optimus and Cheetor zeroed in on rat's position.  
----------------------------------------------------------

The clone fluttered his tongue, pleased with himself. He'd found the computer core all by himself! (Technically, Scorponok had told him where he should look, but it was _him_ who navigated through the enemies' base, so...) He frowned at the control panels, and started pushing buttons at random.  
----------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot was getting increasingly worried. Whatever Megatron's plan was, it seemed to be working. He'd tried to contact the base five times already, with no result. And it wasn't that he was being jammed. He was sure his signal was getting through - there just wasn't anyone to answer. With a true relief he greeted the sight of the force field around Axalon. At least the base was safe-- wait.  
He glared around suspiciously, scanning for any hostilities. Wouldn't it be ironic, if he let the Predacons into the base himself? Megatron would love that.  
But there were no signatures to be found. "Sentinel, stand down," he commanded, adjusting the weight on his back.  
----------------------------------------------------------

Optimus face was grim. "He's right. I've left Dinobot-- the clone-- in the base. We've got to get back!"

"Too-late-too-late-too-laaAAAATe!" Rust cheerfully howled his opinion from some hiding place. Optimus was prepared to ignore that, but the words were shortly followed by Rust himself. The wolf rushed at Cheetor, sweeping him off his feet, and run away, laughing. Both Cheetor and Rattrap perused.

Rust laughed, enjoying the chase. Hey, maybe he could outmaneuver them? He turned, accelerated, and jumped over the chasm.  
Nope. It didn't go as planned. One - the two Maxis halted in time. Two - Optimus was airborne again, and shot him from above, spoiling his calculated trajectory.  
A quick terrorizing and flailing his arms madly, a breath-taking impact with a cliff wall, and he was clinging for dear life to the chasm edge, a little hurt and very defenseless. Scrap.  
And then someone, who shall remain unnamed, shot him in the back. Twice.  
"Hey!" he screamed a protest, spitting energon and scrambling to regain a handhold. "That was extremely un-maximal of you!"  
"Hold your fire," came an angered voice, and then the all-mighty Optimus landed in front of him. With a wrist-cannon aimed straight at him, he couldn't help noticing.

"You should give your troops a lecture on Maximal honor and such," Rust said, craning his neck to look down the chasm. A long way down...  
Optimus gritted his teeth. "Surrender, Rust. We'll see if Megatron values you enough to trade you for Axalon."  
The blue bot sniggered. It was the funniest thing he'd heard from the maxi leader so far. "Are you mental?" he asked good-naturedly, and pushed away from the edge.

There was a triple gasp and a single, joyful 'yeeeee-ha!'  
Then Optimus came to his senses and dived into the chasm after the crazy Predacon. He caught a glimpse of a figure in a skydiving pose, then it shifted, giving the impression that Rust was preparing to plunge head first into the lava, and then there was an explosion. The blow from it shoved Primal upwards, and when the smoke cleared, Rust was nowhere to be seen.

"Is... is he?..." Cheetor leaned so far in a futile search for the blue bot, that he almost fell into the chasm himself.  
"Yes." Optimus forcefully turned the teenage bot around. "We need to get back to base." _And to leave the thinking for later._  
----------------------------------------------------------------

Dinobot surveyed the improved CR-chamber doubtfully, and shook his head. It might have been better, but he had no idea how to operate it. He turned to the other one, obsolete, perhaps, but working on automatic, and carefully put an armful of off-line cat in it. He'd been astonished, to say the least, to find Kittar in one piece and functional. How did that happen, and where all the energon came form was a small mystery, which he'd stored in a 'for later' directory. Right now he needed to find out why the base was deserted. He made sure that the machine began repairs, and started toward the door. It slid open in front of him. Two raptors stopped dead in their tracks.  
----------------------------------------------------------------

"We--" /_BLAM, BLAM_/ "--don't have TIME for this!"  
"Try an tell it to _dem_, Fearless Leader!"  
They cowered in a dry riverbed, as tree arachnids and two flyers enthusiastically presented before them the display of a blind firepower. After a moment it subsided a little, when the flyers took off to flank Maximals' position.

"Oh man, we're scrapped now," Rattrap whined, and then jerked as a hand grabbed his neck. A yelp to his left told him that Cheetor received a similar treatment. "Whatta--?" "BigBot, what are you doi--!"  
"Hold on!"  
----------------------------------------------------------

Life wasn't fair, Waspinator thought, hitting the ground. Why such things always happened to him? Why wasn't it Terrorsaur who got rammed out of the sky by a flying tripe-bot unit? It just wasn't FAIR. He fluttered his wings to check if they'd survived, (they did, thank Primus), and decided to just lie around for a bit. This way, if any more slag would happen, at least it wouldn't happen to _him_.

&&&&

"Dat was crazy," Rattrap gasped, uncovering his optics. Then he took one look at the ground down, down, _down_ below, and covered them again.  
"You're kidding! It's way cool!"  
Trust a kid to be enthusiastic. Sheesh.  
"It worked. But you two are going to be put on a diet," Optimus grunted. He set his jets on maximum burn, but with a double cargo he was flying depressingly slow. Terrorsaur would catch up to them--  
-a few shots missed him narrowly-  
--right about now.

"You're finished, Maximals!" Terrorsaur screeched gleefully.

Dangling in their leader's grip, few hundred meters above the ground, battered and frustrated, Rattrap and Cheetor experienced something like a short, spontaneous synchronization.  
They turned their heads to look at each other.  
They turned their heads to look at the offender.

They raised their guns in a menacing manner.Terrorsaur stopped in midair. _Oops..._

Optimus didn't pay attention to a set of shots below him. He didn't worry about his quickly lowering altitude or the warning cracking of energon surge either. All his concerns were in the area of speeds, ships, raptors, and T-rexes. A purple T-rexes approaching his ship, and brown raptors bowing to them to be exact.

"Pull up, pulluppullup!" Rattrap's panicked voice cut through Primal's stupor in time to convert a disastrous crash into a controlled crash. As soon as he got his feet under him, Optimus ran toward Axalon.  
_Too-late-too-late-too-laaAAAATe!_ an echo of Rust's taunting rang in his head. Without a base, without a safe place to recharge, re-energize and repair themselves, Maximals would be finished. And Megatron was right next to their base right now.  
"No!"

And as if in respond to his desperate shout, an energy field snapped in place, sending the tyrant flying. The raptor with interest traced Megatron's trajectory, said something to him... and maximized.

Optimus felt his knee-joints going week with relief.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something must have gone terribly wrong, because Megatron seemed to be really pissed off when he radioed the retreat. Scorponok was instantly very grateful that this whole cloning business was not his idea. But then again, _he_ was supposed to stop Optimus from reaching the base, so he might get in trouble anyway. He shifted nervously. Well, the least he could do was to make sure everyone make it back to base safely. He ran a check-up. Terrorsaur growled that he was fine, slag off, Waspinator simply raised to the air to show he was fine too, and Tarantulas ignored him. All safe, sound, and in character. Scorponok then radioed Rust, and the youngster didn't respond. _That_ was worrying.

After few more tries, he finally got a response.  
$$ ...mmm? $$  
"Where are you?"  
$$ ...do I really have to tell you that? $$ The voice was nothing like a defiance. If anything, it seemed drowsy. Scorponok narrowed his visor, confirming.  
$$ Somewhere narrow and sticky. $$ A short pause. $$ Is this possible I'm having a hangover? $$  
The Predacons' second in command expressed his doubts on the matter.  
$$ Then I got hit in the head, badly. $$ Another thoughtful pause. $$ Oh, I know what happened. $$ A beat. $$ I'm in a crack in a cliff wall, with a very pretty lava river below. It'll take me some time to figure out how to get out of here. $$ A beat. $$ Funny, I'd swear I had five fingers the last time I looked. $$ There was few small noises and a grunt. $$ Y'know, sarge, don't wait up, I don't think I'm gonna make it. $$

Rust tilted his head, contemplating the energon dripping from the half of his hand. From his comlink came an irritated sigh. $$ Relay your coordinates, I'm sending flyers to help you $$ The blue bot blinked few times, feeling more than a bit foolish.  
_Help. Right. Didn't think of that.  
Well, why should I? I've been on my own since_... His face clouded suddenly. _I've always been on my own_.

&&&&

"Here's the place." Terrorsaur hovered, looking around.  
"Wazzpinator not see crazy-head."  
_plop_

"...the name's Rust, slaggit..."

_plop_

Waspinator hurriedly looked up, wiping away the drops of energon from his helmet.  
Rust gave them a small, tree-fingered wave. "Y'know, on the afterthought, the rat might have had a point to put a rock between himself and the explosion," he said, and fell off the crack, straight on Terrorsaur's head.  
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Let it never be said that Rattrap wasn't stubborn. "I ain't gonna buy dat scrap," he said for the umpth time.  
_Maybe being obnoxious is his way of dealing with stress_, Optimus thought lazily. He didn't interfere. Half lying in one of chairs, he savored having Axalon and his crew safe and sound. What a delightful feeling...  
"...if dere was some 'clone', Mr Excuse, den I wanna see it."  
"Well," Dinobot mused with unusual calm, "I can arrange a meeting, if you insist, Cheese-ball." And with that, he belched and raised a claw to pick his teeth.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The CR blared an alarm, making Scorponok jump. "What now?" He studied the machine and with an irritated sigh went to rummage in a supply locker. After a while he came back with a bunch of small metal rods. He fed the doses of wolfram, cobalt and titanium to the insatiable tank. He'd already checked the machine for any malfunctions and found nothing, but it kept eating up trace elements at a frightening pace. He'd have to check it again once Rust's repairs were over. And notify Megatron their supplies were running short. He sighed.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Wake up, Sleeping Ugly!" The scratchy voice brought Rust back from the depths of off-line. "Wha--at?" he mumbled, yawning. The repair liquid sloshed around, as he shifted on the raised platform of CR-tank. A white face above him grinned maliciously. "Oh, it's you," Rust commented with a scowl. "How touching of you to watch over me."  
"I wanted to make sure you didn't forget about our bet."  
The blue scowl deepened. "Dumb Maxis. So when do I take your stupid, fragging, slaggin' boring monitor duty?"  
"I'll let you know," Terrorsaur said haughtily and departed with the air of superiority.  
"There's nothing to gloat about!" Rust called after him. Then he huffed, rested elbows on knees and face on forearms, and sulked.  
----------------------------------------------------------

The soft hum of CR-chamber and occasional snore were the only sounds at the Axalon's bridge, until Rattrap slid of the chair he'd fallen asleep into, and landed on the floor with a clang.  
"AW! Oh, scrap!" The rat-bot climbed to his feet, scowling, as all his injuries started to ask, what did he think he was doing. "I knew it's no good to let the cat mess with CRs," he grumbled, shooting a vicious glare at the humming machine. He would have rant more, if the radio didn't spoke suddenly with a familiar, though unusually worried voice. $$ Rhinox to Maximal base, are you receiving? $$  
Rattrap jumped to the speakers. "Rhinox, ol' buddy! Great to hear ya! Oh, man, did ya miss one heck of a ball!"  
$$ Rattrap! $$ The relieve in mechanic's voice was evident. $$ Thank the Primus. What's been happening there? I've lost contact with you for over a mega-cycle. $$  
Rattrap smirked. The last connection took place good few megas ago, and he was willing to bet any amount of credits that the remaining time Rhinox had spent stripping the radio contraption down in search for any hidden glitches. "Yeah, well, ya won't _believe_ da stunt ol' purple-face pulled..." He went into a detailed report on the recent event, with extra comments added. "... an Kittar's been out since then, an no-one knows what happened to _her_," he finished.

The rhino shook his head, absentmindedly side-stepping in a futile search for a patch of snow that was less than a knee-deep. "A clone. Who would have thought."  
$$ Not me, dat's fer sure. Though I knew dere was something wrong wit' da thing, I just couldn't 'ave put my finger on it. Anyway, yer be comin' back anytime soon? $$  
"Yes, the radio is set up, and Tigatron knows it as well as it can be known." The technician smiled at the tiger stretched lazily in the snow, and something occurred to him. "Rattrap, are you alone?"

$$ Er... yeah. Why? $$  
"Enter my private data, please."  
$$ Huh? Sure. Gimme a nano. $$ There was a brief pause. $$ Password? $$  
Rhinox recited a string of numbers.

$$ Am in. What am I lookin' for? $$  
"Find the directory 54343, subfolder 467BP."  
$$ Man, I'll never understand how can ya catalogue anythin' like dis, Big Green, $$ the rat-bot complained. $$ Got it. Now what? $$  
"Send it here. You don't need to code it." $$ Here goes. Oh, hey, look who decided to wake up! $$ The next voice that came over the radio was feminine and irritated.  
$$ You're damaged. Why aren't you in CR? $$

Rhinox could almost see the frown on the orange face, and fought hard not to smile.  
$$ Because _someone_ was occupyin' da only CR _we_ know how to use, Miss I-wanna-proper-equipment! Hey! Watch it! Aw, ow, frag it, female! $$  
Rhinox waited until the noises of Rattrap being forcefully locked in the repair chamber stopped before he spoke, a note of reproach in his voice. "Kittar..."  
$$ I'm just doing my job, $$ the cat insisted, sounding hurt.  
"You should try and do it a bit more politely," Rhinox sighed. "Please don't drive Rattrap mad at least until I get back."  
$$ Humph. Kittar out. $$ And the connection was cut off abruptly.

Rhinox shook his head sadly, downloading the files Rattrap had sent him to a datapad. "She would benefit from this as well," he murmured. "Alas, she doesn't care."  
"What is it?" Tigatron asked, raising and coming closer, shaking the snow off his fur.

"Books. Few classics and some modern novels - the latter not the best of arts, but they should give you an insight on the nowadays social life on Cybertron and the colonies."  
The tiger maximized and smiled gratefully at the green bot, taking the pad. "Thank you." The technician nodded, returning the smile. "I'll be going now. Good luck."  
"Fare well, Rhinox"  
----------------------------------------------

Kittar went through the Axalon like a determined tidal wave, sweeping the Maximals off their rooms and into the CR-Chambers, and then sat down to think of the problem Rattrap had brought up. The only Maximal beside her who knew how to operate the three of four CRs was Rhinox. That was a tad problematic. The only way to solve it, she concluded, was to install automatic repair modules. She nodded to herself and set to work.

About a mega-cycle later she had three modules ready and frowned at them. To install them she would need someone to hold them in place from the outside, while she worked on the wires from the inside. She considered her options. Rattrap? Too short. Dinobot? Would do just fine. That's why Dinobot didn't even manage to step out of the CR before he was confronted with the small medic.  
"You will help me install these in CRs."

He snarled, automatically going into a defiance mode. "I shall do no such thing. It is not a task for a warrior." He stepped past her, paying no attention to an angry hiss, but then he stopped. "Unless," he said, "you are able to make for me some blend to preserve an animal's pelt?" Kittar frowned, consulting the knowledge of organics she'd gained so far, and nodded. "I'll make it when we're done," she said, since the CR were much more important than some pelt. Dinobot nodded too. "It's a deal," he finished formally.

-------------------------------------------------------------  
-------------------------------------------------------------

-

-

It was a good thing that Rhinox was never prone to spookiness, as the landscape he was patiently trotting through could give the creeps to a lesser spark. Twisted, petrified trees, bizarre rock formations and gullies abound; the air was thick with unstable energon, and here and there an energon geyser erupted. The fiery smudge across the sky looked so much like a normal element of the scenery, that it took him a moment to notice and identify it. But when he did, he erupted from an easy trot straight into a mad canter.

----------------------------------------------

The Predacons detected a falling stasis pod much faster than the Maximals did, and the intercepting team was already on their way.  
Scorponok clicked his claws uncomfortably, searching the surroundings with his gaze for any trace of Blackarachnia. She'd been there only a cycle ago, making fun of him, and now she was gone. Surly he would have heard if some animal attacked her?

Perched on a branch directly above the gray bot, Blackarachnia smirked and aimed her launcher. She would have prefer to test her new poison on Megatron himself, but the blindly loyal second-in-command was almost as good, and as a bonus she'd get to work on the protoform alone. She wasn't as good with the programming as Tarantulas was, but she was pretty sure she'd manage to obtain a normal, and at least half-intelligent person - something the Predacons base sorely lacked.

Scorponok was about ready to backtrack his way to the point where he last heard the widow's mocking voice, when his world suddenly exploded with pain, and he felt himself twitching involuntarily as the paralysis cut him off his body, and even his vocalizer failed. Over his fading screams, he'd heard an overly sweet feminine voice. "Oh, so sorry, shell-head. I took you for a Maximal. But don't worry, it's not lethal, and I'll soon be back for you - along with our new Predacon!" And he was left alone.  
----------------------------------------------------

Cheetor halted rapidly, gasping and wide-eyed. It was a very normal reaction for a bot who suddenly came nose to muzzle with a whirling chain-gun, but after just split a nano the weapon was lowered, and two sighs of relieve sounded.  
"Cheetor." "Rhinox." And then: "What are you doing here?" they said together.  
"Optimus sent me to meet you, and I saw the stasis pod falling, and I've radioed Optimus about it, but it'll be some time before he gets here."  
Rhinox nodded acknowledgement. "I'm glad you're here. I'll need your help - the protoform is dying."  
Cheetah's eyes widened noticeably. "Dying?"  
----------------------------------------------------

"Hmm. Interesting." Tarantulas absentmindedly tapped in a better recalibrating algorithm to get a more preside readings from the radar, wondered briefly if he should rat on his creation or keep the information for himself, and then reported to Megatron that Scorponok's signature had stopped moving, while Blackarachnia's went on toward the pod. Two cycles later, the flyers were on their way to investigate.

Megatron frowned thoughtfully. He couldn't establish contact with Rust (too much interferences), but the wolf-bot had been in the area on the earlier assignment, and knowing his nose for anything that could prove entertaining, he'd show up anyway. That should be more than enough to ensure capturing the newcomer. Yess.  
----------------------------------------------------

Cheetor gaped at the poison dart about an inch away from his optics. Unbelievable, he actually managed to catch it! Wow! After a split nano amazement, he lashed his hand out, sending the thing back to the sender, and she collapsed into a twitching heap.  
All right! The valiant cat saves the day!  
The familiar buzzing sounded above.  
Okay... so the brave cat still fights through the day, with two innocents lives on the line.  
"Hey, fly-trashbins! Eat that!" he shouted, squeezing a shot - only one, because cold fires suddenly shot through his frame, while his internal computer informed him of the impending stasis lock. He beastmoded, fighting the queasy feeling in his circuits. Scrap, he'd forgotten about his missing locking chip. Now he had half the normal fighting time - and it was up already.  
"Ay!" he yipped, jumping clear of few blasts. "Well, at least I got their attention," he murmured to himself encouragingly, and ran.  
----------------------------------------------------------------

The pod's panels were all wide opened, and the Maximal technician was working with trice the speed anyone would expect of him, trying to make it work. Thank the Primus that he was on his way from the construction site - he wasn't normally carrying this much tools with him. Curse the Pit that the pod had been this severely damaged. He'd done what he could, but the big amount of chips and systems were running on a weld and a prayer, and the upload protocol array must have been fried for good, seeing as it kept blocking any attempts to program the protoform with basic data. Narrowing his optics in anger and determination, he overrode the stubborn component, coupling its driver directly to his own hardcore circuits. Then he gritted his teeth. This was not going to be pleasant.  
The link activated, the voltage sent through the cables much higher than it was healthy, and in a flash of shorting circuits, Rhinox was blown backward into a nearby rock. The connections had only lasted for few nanos, but as the mechanical voice assured, it's been enough. Barely conscious, the green bot still managed a small, relieved smile. "Beast mode," he choked out, and drifted away.  
----------------------------------------------------------------

/_Whoop_/

More than a little tired and worried now, Cheetor zigzagged in a mad pattern, trying to shake the flyers off--

/_Whoop_/

--or at least prevent them from hitting him. _You'd better hurry up, Rhinox_! He jumped aside again.  
/_Whoop_/

What was that sound? It seemed too regular to be natural, but... Hey! He caught the sight of the noisy object and brightened, steering toward it. If he didn't miscount...

One, two, three, jump, five...

/_Whoop_, went the geyser, catching Waspinator in a painful, instant overload.  
/_Crunch_, went Waspinator.

Unfortunately, Terrorsaur was flying much higher, and the chase continued, until Cheetor felt undoubtedly that if he tried to run for another two meters, he'd fall down on his face. Cheetahs just weren't made for cross-country.

He started maximizing, when the sudden blare of internal alarms reminded him it was a very bad idea. Despite himself, Cheetor whined. "Giga bummer, how can I fight if I can't transform?"  
"Problems, pussy cat?"

Cheetor jumped, spinning in midair, and gaped at the big wolf lying on the rock, front paws hanging over the edge lazily. "But you are dead!"  
The wolf half opened his jaws in a silent laughter. "Really? Didn't notice. But in that case, please join me." And with that he lunged at Cheetor, teeth first.

Terrorsaur stopped in the air. Oh, good, the dog can chase the cat, while the pterodactyl gets the trophy. He swerved and headed toward the pod.  
--------------------------------------------

Rhinox came back on-line after a few cycles, the information of internal damages blinking in red across his vision, but what bothered him more was the pod's computer recurrent announcement. No compatible life forms in range? But there _was_ life on this wasteland, as barren as it was! He'd seen a lizard and something that could be a small rodent fleeing before him earlier, and no doubt there were more of them. Primus, right now even an ant would do, on this planet ants were everywhere! Saving this spark was what mattered; they could worry about more proper alt-mode later--  
Proper. Compatible. Rhinox scrambled painfully to his feet. He lacked the vocabulary to vocal the depths of his own stupidity. He should have thought of this earlier - the standard sequencer's setup was to find a form that would best correlate with bot's previous alt-mode. If this bot had been a flyer or a nautical craft... He needed to-- "Rhinox, maximize!"  
Nothing happened, except for a few muffled grinds. His transformation circuits were out. He would have cursed, hadn't he been so tired. He could have prevented the current predicament erasing a single command - if he'd just thought of it.  
He started looking around for a stick or elongated rock he could take in his mouth and use to push the buttons, when his back flared with pain, and he fall to the ground. And in case he had any doubts as to why did it happen, the cause announced itself with a screechy laugh.  
"Well, well, well. Rhinox _and_ a pod. This is my lucky day!"

--------------------------------------------

Cheetor's day wasn't lucky at all. The last few cycles were a blur for him - one moment he was being attacked, and the next thing he knew, he and couldn't-be-Rust were standing few feet apart, their sides heaving, teeth and claws marks all over them.  
There was a low chuckle, and sparkles in the green eyes. "You fight pretty well when you're terrified, you know that?"  
"I'm not terrified," Cheetor snapped, though it was precisely what he was at the moment. He was wounded, exhausted and stuck in a beast mode. Just one shot from the other bot would probably finish him-- Why was he fighting as a beast, then?  
Cheetor carefully circled around the canine, trying to word a half-formed thought. "You... are not Rust."  
A snigger. "Man, don't go projecting your identity problems on me."  
The cheetah shook his head, now almost certain. "You're his clone, right?"  
A wolfish grin appeared. "Good thinking, kitty. But WRONG." The last word was a roar, and in a move almost to fast to perceive, the wolf attacked. Cheetor felt the teeth sinking into his side even as he dodged.  
The evasion was unexpected, and Rust howled shortly as he flew over the Maximal, taking a chunk of his side with him. For a nano they both looked equally surprised, Cheetor gaping and Rust squinting at the piece of yellow fur in wolf's mouth. Then Rust looked up and grinned around a mouthful. "Yum."  
Cheetor made a dismayed sound of terror and bolted. Rust only paused to spit the fur out with a disgusted 'yuck', before he followed.

--------------------------------------------

She woke up slowly, blinking at the strange yellow light. Slowly, hesitantly, she stretched out her arms - only they weren't arms, they were wings, and she couldn't stretch them properly in the narrow space she was in. For the briefest of moments she panicked, and shot out off the pod with a screech that tasted strange in her mouth - that wasn't a mouth anymore either. For a few moments she simply flew, savoring the wind under her wings and the sun on her feathers, but then she looked down, and her thoughts rapidly came to focus.

She didn't know that foggy scraps of Rhinox's memories got mixed in the basic programming he gave her. She didn't even know what he'd done for her. All she knew was that the bots below were familiar - and she felt a sudden need to defend one of them. With a challenging screech, she descended on the red bot.  
The first move seemed very obvious - to lift him off the ground and drop him from the heights. But that didn't work too well - he was a flyer too. She needed something more efficient.  
She closed her eyes, searching herself for information of who she was, what she was... and she found them. "Airazor, maximize," she whispered.  
After that, the fight was tough and short - her adversary seemed to be too stunned to defend himself effectively, and she soon left him in a pile of broken parts.

Rhinox observed the brief battle with something akin to protector's pride, but also with no small amount of worry - to get here, Terrorsaur had to get past Cheetor first - and there was no telling in what condition the young bot was.

----------------------------------------------------

There was a warning rattle of pebbles behind him, but before Cheetor could react, Rust was on top of him, the jaws closing on his neck.  
He struggled, but it's hard to fight when the cables in your neck are crackling, and a mad growling reverberates through your systems.  
Straining to keep his optics online, Cheetor pawed weakly at what little of Rust he could reach, and received a painful shake for his troubles.  
_Why do Predacons keep trying to eat me?_ he thought miserably, even as the world started darkening around him. And then suddenly the crushing pressure was gone, and he found himself lying on the ground, gasping for air. As his vision cleared a bit, he realized there was a mass of gray fur nearby. He blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Rust was sitting nearby on his haunches, staring somewhere in the distance with a grin. "Look-at-that," he said appreciatively. "She's a one good flyer!"  
"Wha--? Who?"  
The wolf jumped to him and grabbed his neck again, but this time only to jerk his head in the right direction.  
"Her."  
Still to dizzy to think coherently, Cheetor tried to focus on few dark specs on sky, which gradually blended into a single spec, that indeed could have been a flyer, circling in the sky as if in search for something. He flinched, as a gray muzzle reappeared in his field of vision. "Whattcha think," Rust murmured into yellow ear, never lowering his gaze from the graceful seeker's form, "she's my friend or yours?" And not waiting for an answer, he went to find out.

&&&&

There was an explosion in the air some distance away, and she performed a narrow turn and flew in its direction.  
A blue bot stood tall on the top of a boulder, the gun in his hand directed at the sky above - but as soon as she got close, he aimed at her.  
"Pred or Maxi?"  
She was considering answering this in a civil manner, but then behind him she saw the battered cheetah, barely moving and leaking fluids, and again the strange wave of concern, protectiveness and anger went through her. She transformed and shot. "Get away from him!"  
The blue bot threw himself backwards, rolled over his head and laughed. "I guess it's a Maxi, then." He flashed the wounded bot a grin. "Lucky you." And then he was gone.

Cheetor whined quietly, watching the fluffy tail of retreating wolf. He was exhausted, damaged and sore, and once again he needed to be rescued. Life wasn't fair.  
"Thanks for help," he murmured dejectedly, as the strange femme landed by his side. He couldn't remember when was the last time he'd felt so wretched.  
"It was the least I could do after _you_ defended _me_," she said with a smile, and suddenly the day didn't seem so bad.  
"I guess now we're even," Cheetor said, returning the smile.

-----------------------------------------------------------------  
-----------------------------------------------------------------

-

-

Few days later, Blackarachnia stomped angrily out of the cleaning facility. She'd had a long and stressful day: her patrol rout led through the swamp again (a courtesy of Scorponok - he didn't appreciate being poisoned, accident or not), she'd been hit on by a moron again, and to top all that, she was still banned from the lab (Megatron's orders. He didn't appreciate having his second poisoned either), and, shock, the last one was hardest to bear.

Being Megatron's pawn was NOT what she wanted from life. It hadn't been a pleasant experience, to wake up to Tarantulas's smirking face, with no memories of her own, and being told that she is a Predacon under some saurian's command, take it or be terminated. She submitted only because she didn't have other choice, but she never accepted it. She was going to take back her freedom, and if the only way to do so was to get rid of Megs… then all the better. But she needed help, and her choices were severely limited. Scorponok and Waspinator were too dumb, and Tarantulas too intelligent (she didn't want to end up double-crossed). That left her with Terrorsaur and Rust. Ugh. What a glorious choice. The pterodactyl was a coward, and wouldn't keep his hands to himself (she only just had a little reminder of that), while Rust was obsessively devoted to Megatron. But he was also fearless and fun-loving, and she could offer a lot of fun… Promise it, anyway. Not that she meant to keep any promises.

&&&&

The bot who invented monitor duty must have been a sadist, Rust decided. The only bright spot during last four-and-a-half megas was when he observed on the radar Terrorsaur's signal nearing Blackarachnia's, only to be abandoned about half a cycle after their paths crossed. Other that that, it was one, big, boredom. The young bot stretched in his chair and grumbled a long and colorful curse at the dumb Maxis, who get him into this mess. HOW on Cybertron could they not recognize a phony raptor? Were they blind?

The steps in a corridor interrupted his brooding. He leaned backwards, pushing at the movable backrest, until he was seeing the upside down doors. An upside down black-yellow shape appeared in the entrance a cycle later, and Rust scowled inwardly. Did she really HAVE to be black-yellow? And THAT shade of yellow at that? The femme stopped in the entrance, regarded him carefully and started toward him.  
Rust raised an optic ridge. Was it just him, or were her hips swinging more than usual? He felt his metal pleasantly prickling all over, and blinked.  
_Electromagnetic field? Oh, please! This trick's for amateurs! And you're not even doing it right!_

"Hallo, Blue-optics," she said in her best seductive voice, leaning against his chair. "What's a bot like you doing wasting his talents on a monitor duty?"  
With an amazing self-control, he beat a snigger unconscious, before it had a chance to reach his voice-box. _You're overdoing it badly, widow_.  
"Lost a bet, as you well know," he answered with a polite smile. "And when did I skip from being a 'filthy henchbot' to a 'bot like me' ?"

Oh, slag it. She had hoped that their first meeting wouldn't be brought up.  
With a smile she leaned over his upturned face. The fact that he was half lying in his chair was giving her an advantage. "I know we didn't start well," she murmured, reaching with her pincer to ruffle a short fur on his chestplate, "But mayb--."  
"Your own fault," he interrupted, shifting into the caress. "You shot at me first."  
"Let's put it behind us," Blackarachnia proposed sweetly, suppressing the anger boiling in her spark. She wouldn't have started shooting, if he didn't tell her to go back to base, because 'Megs was waiting with dinner', or something along these lines. "I'm sure we could work out quite nice relationship." Her pincer tugged lightly at Rust's beast ear, and blue optics dimmed slightly in appreciation. He shifted again, tipping his head further backwards, his pose almost begging for a kiss. Really, it was just to easy...  
"Have I mentioned already how much I don't like your looks?" he asked with a charming smile, and it took her a moment to realize it was NOT a compliment. Her pincer twitched, as she stomped hard on an urge to cut out his vocalizer. She _did_ need his help.  
But then his devilish grin was back in place, telling her that he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Well, if that's how he wanted to play... Her pincer moved to his neck menacingly. "You're just asking to loose your voice-box, wolf."  
"My, my, what happened to 'blue-optics'?" he asked teasingly, tilting his head, daring her to follow the threat. With some effort she regained her composure, smiled and traced the line of his jaw. He practically purred. If he was trying to play a tough guy, then he was doing a poor job of it. "We don't have to be enemies, Rust. I bet you don't know how nice a femme can be if she wants..."  
The young bot blinked few times. Then his face started to twitch. He made few strange, strangled noises. Blackarachnia took a step back, startled, thinking that maybe he was even younger than he looked... And then the remains of his self control vaporized, and he was openly laughing his head off.  
The femme jumped back, and a launcher materialized in her hand. "What's so funny!" she screamed angrily. If there was something she hated as much as being a pawn, it was being laughed at.  
Rust kicked lightly at the console, swiveling his chair to face her. "Sister," he choked out between laughs, "if you _did_ bet on this, you would lose SO badly!"  
The look on her face was something between fury, surprise and incredulity, and he felt obliged to explain. "**_I_** can bet that I have more experience with Spark Merging than the rest of the crew combined."  
She gasped, more at the way he so bluntly named what she was just hinting at, than anything else. To cover it, she addressed the rest of the comment with a snort. "Sure, and you are an incarnation of Primus himself, right?"  
Rust chuckled. "You don't know much of the colonized universe, do you? There are whole _systems_ where SM is highly regarded currency. You'd be _amazed_ how much experience a handsome young bot can gain there."  
She stared with disbelieve at his shameless grin. A _currency_? "You're disgusting!"  
"That's your maximal spark speaking."  
"How DARE you call me a Maximal!" Her launcher went off almost on its own accord, narrowly missing Rust's head. The next nano, she was flying in a graceful arc toward the nearest wall. She barely had time to register a nasty dent in her midsection, before she had to do something about an advancing wolf-bot - fist clenched and a delighted grin on his face. Seduction? He wasn't interested. Brawls? He was up for them any time.

&&&&

A quiet beeping alerted Scorponok that some minor damages were being inflicted to the comm-room. He went to a monitor he had hooked up to the indoor cameras, and raised his visor to the ceiling in exasperation.  
"Rust," he radioed, "put her down."  
$$ But she shot at me firs-- OUCH! $$

&&&&

Blackarachnia took an advantage of the momentary distraction, and wrenched herself free, leaving Rust with few new dents and a partly torn beast ear. He let her get away with it, (a superior was watching), but he couldn't resist other small victory. "Oy, widow, you ever need an advice on flirting, just give me a call!"  
A string of profanities drifted to him in response. He chuckled.

"You've just made yourself an enemy."  
Rust grinned again at the scratchy voice. "Enemies make life interesting," he stated, turning to Terrorsaur. "What are you doing back here so quickly?"

The flyer had absolutely no intention of admitting that his hopes for a date with a certain spider had been once again shoved down the disposal unit, and therefore he had no further use for the patrol time.  
"I realized that I'd be blamed if you short-circuited anything, so," he took the chair Rust had abandoned, "move your tail to the patrol route."  
Rust made a sound between a snort and a chuckle, leaning against the wall. "No point. Would have to go back as soon as I got there."  
"You'll be in trouble if Megatron notices." A careless shrug. "I'll risk it."  
"Suit yourself." Terrorsaur watched the monitors for a moment, until curiosity got the better of him. "Why the Pit don't you like her looks?"  
Rust raised an optic ridge. "How long have you been here?" "Since she started groping you. So? Why?"  
A shrug. "I hate her paint job. And I'm not much into curves either. AND she's boring."  
Terrorsaur almost fell off the chair. "Now you're kidding me. She's the most interesting femme a bot can find!"  
"No, she's not. Kittar is an interesting femme. Widow is a walking Roxy action-figure. She's so symmetric it makes me queasy."  
"You are crazy. Really. Know what? I'll stick with bots who have their cheek plates on the same level, you can have the cat."  
A stifled chuckle. "Fine with me. Though I'm not going to limit myself to just one person. I'm surprised you do."  
"Well, I'm certainly _not_ going after the bird, and there's no more--" the flyer suddenly fell silent and turned his full attention to the screens. Behind his back, a grin bloomed on a silver-blue face.

Terrorsaur ignored the first two sniggers, but with the third, he swiveled his chair, crossing arms over his chest defensively. "So I happen to like femmes. And so what?" he snapped.  
"This is SO last century! Not to say maximalish!"

Contrary to Maximals' society, where over 80 of mechs would choose a femme for a partner (which, along with a two protectors family model, was an aftereffect of Autobots dealing with human culture for too long), Predacons' tastes in the matter were mostly shaped by medias. Generally, the design and a paint job of a bot on 'Prestar Pictures' posters were considered hot. For the past three decades, the trendy look was a black-and-white RN motorcycle. Femmes - that was ancient history.

"Well, _some_ of us are were activated BEFORE people started drooling over some over-stuffed commando."  
Another snigger from the blue bot. Terrorsaur jerked his head challengingly. "So what's _your_ favorite design?"  
"Pft! Like I'm going to let you babble it all over the planet, ruining my chances." "Like you have any chances to start with." "I believe I have." "Oh, please, not even that maximal cheetah is dumb enough to fall for a psycho like you."  
Rust scowled. "Ewww. Don't be disgusting. That kid is barely off age, if that."  
"Oh, gee, you're shocking me. Like you're that much older."  
Rust burst out laughing. "Good point," he choked out after a while. "But he's still too young. Good merging takes a bit of maturity."  
"So by all rights, you shouldn't get any merging at all. You're as immature as it gets."  
"I know you are, but what of me?"  
"Now, that was childish. And it just proves my point." "I'll show you a point, Dactyl," Rust said with a merry glint in his optics, pushing himself off the wall, and then he staggered, grabbing it for support with a surprised face. The flyer regarded him suspiciously. "Are you cratered?" He had no idea where Rust could have got hold of high grades, but that would certainly explain a lot.

"N-no, just some glitch in gyros. From the kick Widow gave me. Yeah. See ya." And he left, short of running.  
----------------------------------------------------------

Blackarachnia hit the button on CR-tank and climbed inside, shaking in fury and humiliation. She'd rather die than let Rust anywhere close to her, but how did he dare reject her? She was pretty and hot, she knew she was, but now the small threads of doubt snuck into her spark, and that was something she wouldn't forgive. The wolf was going down.

------------------------------------------------------

Rust slid down to the floor in a convenient closet, and sat there for a while, pretending that he was perfectly fine and not in pain at all, thank you very much. His frame shuddered, and he whined quietly. He transformed to the wolf form. It helped, if only a little. Gritting his teeth, he made his way to his quarters, only to find it empty. Oh, it was littered with various garbage as usual, but there was a very noticeable lack of roommates. Rust grunted. Where was that wasp? He didn't want to be alone right now!

The camera on the main living deck swept over one very unhappy wolf, making his way through the corridor and sniffing under the doors hopefully.  
Empty, empty, empty. Where was everybody, when he needed company?

&&&&

"Hi sarge."  
Scorponok almost dropped a test-tube. He frowned at the wolf in lab's doorway. "What do you want?" "Nothing." "So, what are you doing here?" A small shrug. After a moment: "You mind if I stay here for a while?"  
Scorponok blinked, taken aback. "Why?" Another small shrug. Rust looked around, as if he was looking for something, and shrugged again. Scorponok decided not to bother with him any longer. "Don't break anything," he warned, turning back to his work.

After some time a scrapping sound made him look back. No Rust in sight. Puzzled, Scorponok walked round the laboratory, glancing behind shelves. Still no Rust, but the scrapping did sound few more times. After few cycles, during which the scientist was getting more and more uneasy, he finally thought of bending down to peek under the computer console.

Rust lay squeezed in the narrow space, deep in recharge, paws twitching lightly in some dreamt pursuit. But what caught Scorponok's attention, was his unnaturally fast breathing. He run a few scans over the prone bot, and clicked his claws worriedly.  
Malfunctioning circuit connections, overactive cooling system, internal temperature seriously exceeding optimum. Simply put, Rust was having a fever.  
The scientist nodded to himself. He'd been expecting something like that. It was over four weeks since Megatron had cut Rust's off and recharge time down to mere three megas a solar, which was crazy, even if Rust obviously had some extra energy to burn. Thirteen megas of duty, with three megas off, and four for recharging - now _that_ was sensible minimum. A bot can function with so little rest, sure enough, but not for a long period of time. Sooner or later, his frame is bound to protest.

Judging by the expanse of small malfunctions, it's been going on for days. And the youngster didn't say a word. Scorponok shook his head, not for the first time wondering, where in the galaxy had Megatron found the young soldier. Then he went to the computer and opened the file with crew roster. Its pattern was a nightmare for the next bot, but it made perfect sense if you knew where to look. It kept Rust and Waspinator close, but Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia apart. It ensured a constant control over their territory, and enough sleep for everybody. All these were the small details that ensured that everything ran smoothly, and they were entirely in his charge. Megatron didn't need - and didn't like - to be bothered with them.  
------------------------------------------------------------

Rust blinked at his new schedule. "ODWOP?" he said.  
"Off-duty while on patrol," Scorponok translated, not turning from his work. "You can't return to base, but you're technically having a break." He glanced over his shoulder. "You should use this time to recharge."  
The youngster looked at him with confusion for a moment, but then he smiled and stood to attention - complete with clicking heels and saluting.

"Aye, sir!" he said with merry sparks in his optics.

------------------------------------------------------------

End of part nine

A/N: Just because I don't beg for reviews every second line, doesn't mean I don't wait for them! There's this nice blue button down there - go and CLICK it for Primus sake!  
Oh, come on...  
Pleeeease... /_whines_/


	10. The cat must die

**A/N**: Yes, I know that 'sarge' is a shorter version of 'sergeant', not 'second-in-command' - but Rust thinks it sounds cool, so what can I do? It's just a moniker anyway, don't get upset over it ;)  
On another note, this chapter turned out awfully pseudo-scientific. Sorry about that. Hope it's bearable.

Also, I've just taken a closer look at Tarantulas's little flashlights, and realized I should rather be calling them insectoids than arachnoids. But I don't want to/_pouts_/  
**A/N2**: I can't believe how long this thing got. Let's hope it will make up for the long waiting.  
Oh, and lots of love for those wonderful people who keep me going - Yana, Ima, and my reviewers. Love you all!

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, except for the things that are.

-

**The cat must die**

_The cat does what cats do, and people get angry. Why?  
And what's the deal with Rattrap and Rhinox anyway?_

_-_

_-_

_-_

"Look what I've got."  
Rattrap groaned, ground his teeth and decided to wait her out. The small femme didn't seem to notice his lack of interest, and produced a vial of yellowish liquid. "It's based on natural poly-lipids, but I've added a few synthetic preservatives as well."  
"Uh-huh," he murmured noncommittally, crouching and glaring at the exposed wires of the first-deck fuse board, searching for the problem. Aha! Here it was."It reacts with epidermal cells, and prevents the decay."  
"Uh-huh." He separated two fused wires, and sprayed them with insulation foam.  
"Dinobot wanted it. For the clone pelt."  
"Uh-hu-- What? What pel--" he visibly shook himself off. "I don't really wanna know. Why don't ya take it to Dinobot, eh? Ya know, tall, ugly, goes around with a pet?"

Kittar humphed, beastmoded and stalked away, nose held high. With an irritated sigh, Rattrap turned back to his work.  
A mistake.  
Never turn your back at the offended cat. A padded paw thumped at the back of his helmet, sending his face to meet the blob of a half-set foam. With a colorful curse Rattrap jerked back, wiping it off his optics, only to see the red blur already disappearing round the corner. He chucked a foam-can after her nonetheless. Cats!  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Building a mobile, remote micro cameras was, in a way, Tarantulas's hobby. In the same way a human could fold and fling through the window paper planes, while mentally calculating the influence of chaos factor on the state economy.  
But even such man would occasionally go to the window to see how far his planes had gone. And he shouldn't be blamed for getting a little peeved upon discovering that half of them had been intercepted and shredded to pieces.

The yellow visor narrowed at the holo-map. The blinking lights indicating arachnoids positions were scattered in a random pattern over the land - except for one dark spot, a lightless void amid the constellations. An almost perfect circle, stretching for about two miles around the Axalon. Kittar's hunting grounds.  
The spider legs twitched in annoyance. "You begin to irritate me, kitten."  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the door to the control room hissed open before him, Rattrap's mood increased immediately. The place was graced with the presence of a femme - not of a feline kind, thank you - currently presenting Rhinox with some kind of a plant. Just now, the technician was putting it on the top of the radar console, thanking with a smile. A very nice family picture, in Rattrap's opinion. Rhinox could deny all he wanted, but he was very obviously protectoring over the femme. If it were anyone but Rhinox, Rattrap would have taunted them about it mercilessly. Since it _was_ Rhinox, he was only taunting a little.

Airazor bid a goodbye, and turned to leave. Rattrap hastily rearranged himself, so that she'd have to brush against him on the way out. "'lo, Bird-lady!" "Hallo, Rattrap. You've got something on your face," she said, passing by him.  
"Wha-?" He raised a hand, and insulation foam crumbled under his fingers.  
"Damn cat," he murmured, wiping the remnants of the stuff away and watching Airazor's back disappearing in the corridor. Oh, well. Some other time, maybe. It wasn't as if they were going to leave the planet anytime soon.

"Ya've got yourself a charge," he teased, watching Rhinox smiling warmly at his present.  
Rhinox emitted a small 'stop speaking nonsense' grunt, and turned his attention to his share of monitors.  
Rattrap grinned mischievously, sitting down and putting his legs up. "Good ta know she thinks flowers are a good present, though," he mused, half to himself.

The technician's head jerked, as he picked up a familiar note in the rat-bot's voice. "Why?" he asked with the slightest undertone of warning.  
"Ah, ya know, she might be sad one day, need some cheer up..."  
Rhinox frowned. "Rat_trap_..." he drawled, the warning resurfacing.  
"Yes, Rhinox, ol' buddy?" the picture of utter innocence could fool any judge in the galaxy - but not him. The green bot shook a finger at his friend. "Keep your hands to yourself, you spark-eater!"  
"Eh, now, dat _hurt_. Can't a bot be nice to a femme with no hidden motive?"

Without a word, but with a telling frown, Rhinox took two steps to - there was no other word for it - loom over Rattrap, who hurriedly raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Awright, awrigth, I'll be a perfect gentlemech. Sheeesh, talk 'bout overprotective."  
"It's never _over_protective when you're involved," Rhinox murmured, going back to his station.

"Dat's almost a compliment," Rattrap muttered under his breath, smirking.  
"What?" Rhinox inquired a bit suspiciously.

"Ah, nothin'. I've fixed dat lighting problem we've had. Anythin' else needs my lovin' attention?"  
Rhinox pointed at the busy schedule. "Your duty roster," he said.

Rattrap followed his gaze, and groaned. He was due on scouting patrol with Cheetor. You'd think by now they'd have the nearby terrain mapped out and remembered by heart. Unfortunately, the terrain had a disturbing tendency to change a bit after every nastier bit of weather. They had to update they information every now and then.

Rattrap got up with a sigh.  
"Oh joy, baby-sittin' duty again..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Far away from the unsuspecting Maximals, in the bowels of the dark ship, the dark forces were at work, the selected dark elite working on a dark project...

...All right, lets drop the dramatics. We all know the dark forces were just the Predacons, they didn't _have_ any elite, and the selection went like: "you /_click_/ and you /_click_/ will do it." AND: "What about me? Why not? Oh geez, I CAN handle a torch. No, I'm not going to break anything. Yes, I'm SURE. Oh for Primus sake, sarge, there's nothing to short-circuit there!"

"You are crazy, and workaholic, Rust." Terrorsaur said with an air of a judge announcing a final verdict.  
"Pft! It was either that, or the monitor duty," Rust replied. "And we all know how I _love_ the fragging screen watching."

"Whatever." Terrorsaur jerked a wrench few times, making sure the nut was secured. "It's about time our _glorious_ leader thought of this. I was getting sick of feeders. Pass me more bolts, Waspinator." There was a reason why he said other flyer's proper name instead of 'bug-eyes' or the such. Only yesterday Rust had raised a friendly dispute on the subject 'bots don't like to be called names'. The leftovers from it where still littering the main corridor. (1)

Waspinator checked the box lying near him. "Bolts gone," he said. "Waspinator bring more."  
Rust nodded, absentmindedly passing Terrorsaur few bolts from his own supply. "Ah-huh. And fetch some energon crystals while you're at it, we're almost finished with this one, we may as well test it."  
Waspinator buzzed a happy "OK," and flew away.

Terrorsaur placed the bolts from Rust in their places, and decided he deserved a little break. "So," he started, leaning on the soon-to-be refiner. "You've been traveling a lot, or were you just bragging to Blackarachnia about all those systems you know?"

Rust glanced at the flyer sidelong, and his optics gleamed as he smirked. "Why, you're planning your holidays already? Or are you just curious about the exotic currencies?"  
Terrorsaur scowled. "No, just wanted to pester you. Turnabouts, and so on." After all, the blasted wolf had pretty much wrenched his whole life story out of him, when they were stuck together on a desert.  
Rust chuckled. "O-kay, turnabout it is. Sure, I've been traveling a lot. Any place worth visiting you've heard of, I've been there."  
"Oh yeah? Even Proteria?" It was the biggest Predacon colony, and the rumor had it the Tripledacus Council held their most important meetings there.  
"Sure. But didn't stay long, it's not really interesting unless you're a merchant or politician or something equally boring."

Terrorsaur couldn't help a snigger. The blue terror had a point there. "All right, what about the All-plays Grand Casino?"

Rust smiled dreamily. "Ooooh yeah. Made a real big money there. I lost it right away on the Castelia, of course, but it was worth it." He patted his forearm. "Got some wicked upgrades there, grenade launchers included."

Terrorsaur hissed in furious envy. The All-plays Grand Casino was a golden dream of any game lover. He'd always wanted to visit it, but instead he'd been stuck on Gladius, until Megatron swindled him.  
And Castelia? The illegal shellshops there were almost a legend!

"No freaking way you could travel from Grand Casino to Castelia and still have some credits left! The place is two galaxies away!"  
"So?"  
"_So_? You're kidding me! I don't believe you could win of the Grand Casino enough and get away alive!" Like any self respecting hazard establishment, the All-plays Grand Casino didn't look kindly at being relieved of large amounts of cash. "I _know_ the transwarp transport charges!"  
Rust smirked. "Who says I was paying for it?"  
Terrorsaur snorted. "Oh please." He considered it for a nano. "No, really, _please_ enlighten me: how can a bot get a free transwarp trip?"

"My pleasure." Rust glanced at the blueprints and readjusted some parts on the refiner. "There are three patented means for that. Your basic way is a stowaway. You get a good energy-signature dumper, some concentrated energon goodies, and, most important of all, you find a ship that carries boxes large enough to hide in."

Terrorsaur twitched lightly, and the blue bot grinned wolfishly. "Of course," he continued, "it's risky, and uncomfortable. You know, a little place to move, you're all crammed in and crumpled, and the air quickly gets _so_ stiff, and you never know how many cargo they'd put on top of you, so you can very well end up on the bottom of a _really_ big pile, and--"

"I _gET_ the PICture!" the flyer's screech took an unusual swing along the scale, reaching the highest pitch Rust had yet heard from him.  
He chuckled, but mercifully left the discomforting subject of being buried under a mass of luggage.  
"The other way is to get a replacement-job on the ship. That only works on passenger cruisers though, where they need stewards. That's because you don't need any qualifications to serve drinks and smile all cycle round. And, you need to make sure they are down by one person just before the launch, and are desperate for a fill-in."  
"A.K.A., kill the guy who dares to have the job you need," Terrorsaur translated. Rust snorted. "Geez, you're fluid-thirsty. I usually settle for getting them dead drunk. Speaking of which, I'm done here, you can connect the engine."

Terrorsaur moved to do that, while Rust went to the other machine. Why Megatron first neglected installing a single energon refiner, and then suddenly demanded three at once, was a small mystery. Or, as the flyer preferred to think, a perfect proof of his incompetence.

"So what the third way is?" he asked, shaking a welder to start it.  
"Ah, that would be my personal favorite, sadly not often available," A slightly muffled voice said from inside the second contraption.

"And that is?" Terrorsaur said after a moment's pause.  
Rust pulled out of the machine to flash him a smug grin. "To wallow in luxury in captain's private quarters," he said.

Terrorsaur froze in mid motion, and looked over at Rust in bewildered realization. There was a busy spaceport on Gladius, he could have been off the asteroid decades ago! "Why I've never thought of that?" he asked, more of himself than the other bot.

Rust smirked. " 'Cause you're not a genius I am?" he suggested.  
It earned him a snort. "Genius. Sure. This coming from a guy who can't even spell his name right."  
"Wha--?" Rust blinked, then followed the red bot's gaze. "Oh, you mean this?" he said, tapping two letters etched in his shoulder. "That's not from my name, that's abbrev from my, ahem, true nature."

"Oh, I get it," Terrorsaur nodded with a serious face. "You needed reassurance that, against all proof, you _are_ Relatively Smart."

_/Clang, swoop, clang/_

The first sound was Rust's wrench hitting the floor, the second was a crate of parts being pushed aside, and the third was Terrorsaur's back-plate greeting the wall.

Frag. He forgot how fast Rust could be when he wanted. Rust grinned wolfishly at him. "What did I hear you saying?"  
Terrorsaur raised his hands hastily. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it."  
Rust took a polite step back, letting the flyer slid back to the floor. "Really."  
"Really, honest, for real." Terrorsaur assured, letting his babbling drown the quiet hum of powering-up jets. "What I meant to say was..." He glanced up to measure the distance to the ceiling. "...Really Stupid." His jets went off with a roar, taking him out of harms way just as Rust's fist connected with the wall.

&&&&

Blackarachnia smiled benignly at the monitors. Good old Rust. Can't live through a day without causing trouble.  
"Oh, Tarantulaaas..." she coed in overly sweet tones.  
The other spider grumbled something impolite, and pulled from the hole in the wall, where he was messing with wiring. "What?"

Blackarachnia smiled sweetly and stepped aside, revealing the screen, on which Rust was jump-climbing the wall in hot pursuit after the red flyer.  
"The fifth brawl he started this week," she said, her voice going smoothly from sweet to business-like. "Pay up."

Mandibles curling in disgust, Tarantulas unsubspaced a set of small vials and tossed it at the femme without a word. And then, because he was a bad looser, and because he had been at the wrong end of one of said brawls, and because it was just something he did, he tweaked few cables so that the feedback from the cargo hold camera was sent straight to Megatron's personal computer.

&&&&

Rust leapt, and Terrorsaur dodged. He was starting to think that maybe insulting the fluid-thirsty hyperactive maniac wasn't such a good idea. But, slag it, he'd called him worst few times, and Rust simply laughed or whacked him upside the head. Now he was trashing around like some freaky droid-slayer. _That's the problem with nutters_, Terrorsaur thought. _You never know when they will blow._  
"We have a deal, remember?" he screeched a little panicky, as Rust rammed into the beam he was currently hiding behind.

"Oh, I remember," Rust said reassuringly, performing a complicated flip jump that brought him to the top of crate pile. "I won't _deactivate_ you." He monkey swung along the ceiling to the small platform from where he could jump at Terrorsaur no matter which rout he might try to take to escape. "I will merely cause you a severe inconvenience."

The intercom suddenly roared with Megatron's voice. :: RUST!::

Rust dropped to the floor immediately. "Didn't do anything."  
"Yet." Terrorsaur added, landing. He'd never thought he'd be glad to hear Megatron's voice. Not that he was scared or anything, but he quite liked his external structure as it was. Dents, scratches, missing limbs - these were not on his 'to-get' upgrade list.

:: Didn't I tell you not to attack my troops?:: Megatron seethed.  
"Em, no sir, not exactly, you said you didn't appreciate me damaging them, and I haven't damaged him."  
"Yet." Terrorsaur added.  
Rust sent him a_ look_. "Shut _up_, Terror."

:: Mr. Rust. :: Megatron's voice took the overly polite tones of the tyrant clinging to his composure. :: You are not to attack Predacons, and that's an order. ::

Rust's innocent expression contorted into one of a pure mischief. "Even Dinobot, sir? And what if they attack me first? Or if they attack _you_? Or if--"  
Rust stopped. Megatron was growling, and that wasn't something you heard every day.  
:: We will discuss the exceptions later,:: Megatron said after a while. :: Are you done with your assignment?::

"Kind of, sir, the first refiner's ready, and--"  
"Waspinator brought crystals," the wasp-bot said from behind, peeking carefully into the hold.

"And Waspinator brought the crystals," Rust repeated dutifully. "We can test the machine now."  
:: Yess, do that. Megatron out. ::

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rhinox sagged slightly forward, as something heavy landed on his shoulders.  
"Can we check if there are metals on this planet?" Kittar asked, nuzzling the side of his head. "We've made a full scan of our surroundings when we landed," he said, half turning. Kittar adjusted her balance to the movement without an effort as he pointed the computer across the room. "You can find the data there."  
With a resonant 'prrru', the cat jumped in that direction.

'Prrru', Rhinox decided getting back to his work, was most probably her version of 'thanks'. It wasn't that she couldn't grasp the concept of small social niceties. She just had a little trouble with applying them to herself.

Kittar maximized in front of the console, making a hearty, whole-body shake. When she was sure that all of her parts were where they should be, she activated the computer and plowed through the data.

What happened sometime later, Rhinox first registered as sounds.

One: the hiss of upcoming lift.  
Two: a grumble-grumble of displeased Rattrap.  
Three: a splash of watery mud landing dangerously close to Kittar.  
Four: a hiss of displeased Kittar  
Five: metallic noises of Kittar beastmoding and seeking refuge at the top of the screen.

And six: a soft sigh of Rhinox, swiveling his chair to contemplate the scene. Near the lift were Cheetor and Rattrap, both wet and muddy, with respectively embarrassed and irritated expressions on their faces. Near the ceiling was Kittar, hissing and bristled.

"Rattrap, what happened?"  
"Lemme tell ya, buddy," the addressed bot said, flicking some more mud off his hands in Kittar's direction. "I'm never gonna let any cat lead da way anymore."  
"Hey!" Cheetor protested, waving his hands widely. "It wasn't my fault that-- Ouch!" Something in his arm screeched, and the teen-bot grasped at it with a pained scowl.  
In a blur of red and a flash of yellow, Kittar appeared at his side. "What did you do?" Her hands flew to Cheetor's arm. "You've got two joints dislocated and full of mud!" Without further ado, she dragged the protesting weakly patient toward the Med Bay.

"If yer not back in a week, we'll come an rescue ya!" Rattrap called after Cheetor. "Maybe!" he added, looking down at himself, scowling. "Man, what's wrong wit' dat kid? I was tellin' him da ground didn't look solid fer me, but no, he just had to race in da middle of a slaggin' swamp!" He tugged at a small stick stuck in his elbow joint. "An when he got stuck, I told him to stop trashing about, but do ya think he'd listen?"

Rhinox stifled a fond chuckle. "Reckless, impulsive, wouldn't listen to reason..." he said.

"Precisely!" the small bot agreed, yanking the piece of wood out. Rhinox tapped his chin in a mock thoughtfulness. "Hmm... Why all that sounds familiar?"

Rattrap's scowl was sour as a lemon, as he chucked the stick at Rhinox's head. "I was never THAT young," he said with absolute certainty.  
"Uh-huh."  
"I was not," Rattrap insisted, and then retreated from the command room. Sometimes Rhinox's smile was just as scary as his frown.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a quiet buzz, the energon crystals disappeared on the one end of the refiner, to reappear in the middle in a liquid state of a third-grade, (also known as pre-tech-grade or, sometimes, scum). Then it continued its journey through the bowels of the machine, getting purified to become the common second-grade. And that, sadly, was it.

Terrorsaur lightly elbowed Rust on the hip. "Wanna bet he's going to set up a first-grade refiner in his quarters?" he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.  
Rust scowled ever so lightly. "I know he is." He sighed. "Do you know how to make high-grades?" he asked without much hope.  
"Huh. Sure I do. You go into the bar and say: 'Gimme your best poison'. "

They both looked at the appearing cubes. They sighed.

But Rust couldn't stay miserable for long. Jerking his head resolutely, he walked up to the glowing buffet, picked up a cube and took an experimental sip. He grinned.  
"It could be much better. But it's still beats the feeders." He handed two cubes to Waspinator and Terrorsaur, and raised his own. "Cheers!"  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are many ways the captain of a small crew can be stopped in his tracks, and Optimus knew a lot of them, but he had to admit that having a data-pad shoved into his chestplate was a new one. Now, a datapad shoved into your _face_, that's a fine, if unnerving, tradition. But of course, the bot in front of him could barely reach that high.

"What is it?" he asked, taking the pad out of Kittar's hand.  
"We need those," she said, beastmoding.  
She obviously wasn't going to say anything more, so Optimus looked through the data. There was a copy of their map of the continent, with several areas highlighted, chemical symbols scribbled on them. He scrolled down, to the list of few elements, grouped neatly into first-, second-, and low-priority. A hectic net of hand-drawn arrows was connecting the listed symbols with the areas on the map.

Optimus reset his voice-box. "I assume it's some kind of a mining campaign plan," he said. "Now just tell me, why do we need wolfram, titanium, beryllium, and so on?"  
"For repairs."  
Optimus made a _'go on'_ gesture. "Because...?"

"We're almost out." Kittar's tail started twitching - never a good sign. On the afterthought, Optimus should have realized he was asking for it when he said, "Kittar, I need a bit more information before I send half of my crew over..." - he checked the map, - "...five hundred kilometers away."

For a nano-klik Kittar was just looking up at him. Then she maximized, crossed her arms and _flooded_ him with information. In just three cycles he learned:  
- the precise percentage of the questionable metals in his own shell's alloys, (with different values for the armor and various bits of circuitry),  
- same info on the shells of all other Maximals, (with same details),  
- the durability and recyclebility of the trace elements in damaged parts,  
- and the precise amount of said elements that was lost in each of recent repairs.

The fact that she switched to Breglay accent halfway through it didn't help the matter. Optimus raised his hands. "We need those," he said, shielding himself with the data-pad from further scientific assault. It worked like a charm.

"Yes." Kittar dropped to padded paws, and stalked off. And let it be noted that there aren't many creatures in the world that can radiate smugness as well as cats do.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As long as a bot was blindly fulfilling his orders, Megatron was willing to let them get away with some quirks and oddities. But he could also recognize a bad case of malicious obedience when he saw it, and _that_ he wouldn't ignore.  
That's why, after he was briefed on precise circumstances when he WAS allowed to bodily harm his teammates, Rust left the control room flying backwards through the door.  
"Aye, sir, understood sir," he said matter-off-factly, picking himself off the floor. A small satisfied giggle came from further down the corridor.

"In trouble so early in the shift, wolfie?" the one and only Pred-femme asked, a slight scowl on her lips betraying the apparent concern.  
Rust blinked in what appeared to be honest surprise. "Who, me? Whatever gave you the idea?" he smoothened singed fur on his chestplate. "Anyway, I gotta go. Sarge wanted some parts." He beastmoded and trotted away.  
"Suck-up" Blackarachnia murmured under her breath.  
"The only thing that suck around here is your paint-job," the wolf murmured, rounding the corner.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By now Airazor was pretty familiar with the layout of the ship. That's why she wasn't looking where she was going, and was taken by surprise when something furry whirled around her legs. Catching the wall for balance, she looked down. "Good afternoon, Kittar."  
The cat acknowledged the greeting with a nod, and went straight to business. "You know plants?"  
"Um, I'm aware of their existence, yes." Airazor said, smiling uncertainly.  
Kittar nodded again. "I need some plants. For repairs," she added, seeing the inevitable question coming up. Why did everyone need to know what she was needing things for?

The flyer femme regarded the cat with dubious expression. "How can local plants, _any _plants, be helpful with our repairs?" she asked.  
"Because of beast-modes" Kittar said in slightly impatient tone of a person who'd already had to explain that several times before.  
The scant as the information was, it made something click in Airazor's processor. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "They origin from the local ecosystem!" Her optics gleamed. "Did you do any research? On how do flora and fauna coexist and influence each other on the molecular level?"

Kittar took a step back, and tilted her head in surprise. She intended to simply pass Airazor a datapad with specifications, but the other femme seemed to be honestly interested in the subject. Strange, but she didn't mind. It didn't hurt to have someone else who knew all whys and hows.  
"Come, I'll show you" she said, and turned, heading for the Med Bay.

&&&&

In theory, Optimus was doing the leadery staff, i.e. figuring out how to get the needed metals and bring them back before Predacons realize what's going on. In practice, he was trying out Kittar's favorite tactic: ignore it; maybe it'll go away.  
"Can't we just melt some parts of Axalon?" he asked, wincing even as he said that. It was bad enough that his ship was grounded. The thought of recycling her for the elements they needed felt like 'ugh'. But if it could help...

Rhinox shook his head. "They use different agents in space-alloys. And the few that we could use are much easier to retrieve from the natural formations."

Balancing nicely between relief and disappointment, Optimus looked down at the names of his crewmates. After a long discussion with Rhinox, (who had taken one look at Kittar's map and promptly made his own - an _organized_ one), he decided it would be best to make the mining trip a one-time round, rather than several trips to separate locations. It would take just three-to-five days, and hopefully provide them with stellar's worth of all necessary metals.

All that was left was deciding who should go. Rhinox and Rattrap were the obvious choice. They've spent a better part of last three centuries working at Vespa system mines - there were virtually no natural resources they weren't familiar with. But they couldn't do all the job alone. According to Rhinox, they would need one other person to assist with the mining. According to Optimus, they would need second other person to guard their backs.

He didn't like the idea of sending Cheetor away for so long, but on the other hand, the teen-bot wouldn't be much help if Megatron decided to visit.  
Sending Dinobot on a long mission in the same team as Rattrap was a Bad Idea, but leaving him in charge of Axalon was even worse one. (2)  
He didn't know Airazor too well as of yet, but flyers generally had a distaste for ground works.  
As for Tigatron and Kittar...

"Why have we run out of supplies so early?" the rather flustered captain asked of the world in general, and specifically of one very patient technician. "We were scheduled for a decade long exploration. It's only been few months!"

"As stated in official records, the average usage of CRs on exploration vessels is forty minor and ten major repairs per decade, and that's what we were originally prepared for." Rhinox looked up. "We would have been out of trace metals long ago, if the Council hadn't tripled our supplies after DepthCharge's performance."

"Heh." Even though the subject wasn't a pleasant one, Optimus couldn't help a smile at the memory of the guardian throwing a fit as the verdict on protoform X was announced. Just to shut him up the Council had stuffed Axalon's Med Bay and armory with enough equipment and supplies to match a battle cruiser. Which was a lucky coincidence, since they actually had to match up to one...

"Thank the Primus for DepthCharge's paranoia," Optimus sighed, looked at the pad in front of him, and pushed it away decidedly. "I'll go and help Rattrap with the equipment. The faster we're ready, the faster we'll go."  
And who knows, maybe he'd think of some brilliant solution to the current dilemma by not thinking about it.  
In the doorway he passed Airazor. She was linked up to a databox hanging at her hip, obviously downloading its content, at the same time reading the datapad she held in hand. "This is _fascinating_," she said, looking up from it. "Optimus, can my patrol rout be modified so that I can make some research on the way? Oh, and Rhinox, you wouldn't mind if I made a more thorough examination on the plants you've already tested, would you?"  
"By all means." "Not at all." Optimus and Rhinox said together. The femme's already bright optics lightened up even more. In quiet understanding, the two mechs half-smiled at each other. No matter what the next few solars would bring, at least one Maximal was going to enjoy herself.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Knock, knock!" Rust pushed the lab's door and entered, smiling cheerfully. "Hi sarge! Supply run: I'm running low on grenades, my racer could use a speed upgrade, I need a manual for installing all the stuff, and here're those parts you wanted." Rust shot all this at the scientist at a head-spinning speed, and grinned a perfectly innocent grin, waiting for confirmation.

Scorponok sighed silently. He wasn't the fastest thinker alive, maybe, but that particular trick had been tried on him many times previous, and he only fall for it the first time. He calmly replayed the tirade from his short time memory banks, and addressed each issue individually.  
"Leave the specification, NO, I'll brief you on each location before you leave, put them over there."  
"But saaaarge," Rust whined, putting the parts over there, "it only goes 200 mph at most! I couldn't even out-fly Optimus!"  
The scorpion's tail twitched in utter irritation. "Me not touch the thing, Megatron not like it."  
"I can take double shifts and help you around the lab," Rust offered hopefully.

It was an unofficial law on the ship, that if you needed something war- or mission- related, Scorponok would make it for you without a fuss. _But_, if you wanted something just for yourself, you had to pay for it. The racer had been built, because the second in command felt that jumping off a four hundred feet high cliff to save their leader's life was a huge payment-in-advance. After receiving an audio-full from the leader who felt otherwise, however, he wasn't going to mess with the thing again anytime soon.  
"No."

Rust made a low, impatient sound. He wouldn't try to threaten the scientist, because, a) Megatron forbade him to, and b) he kind of grew to like the old-timer, so he was limited to haggling old fashion way. "Do you need--" he started.  
"I _don't_ need more trouble with Megatron. Out you!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As an exploration vessel, Axalon was prepared to do all kinds of research, geological included. That meant that they did have anything they would need to acquire the natural resources. The only problem was, most of the equipment was taken to pieces and tucked away in crates. It needed to be found out, reassembled and given maintenance. And in some cases it seemed to have a very negative attitude to all that.

Some heavy and important piece of machinery clanged on the floor of a cargo hold _again_.

"Optimus, ya have no idea what yer doin', " Rattrap announced. "Why dontcha leave it to da professionals, eh?"  
"Watch it Rat-face!" Cheetor heroically rushed to the captain's defense, ready to use the claws if necessary. Optimus pulled him back by his tail. "Easy, Cheetor, I really have no idea how this works." He turned to Rattrap. "Here, I'll leave it to you." He lifted a heavy crate and made a move as if to put it on the rat-bot's head.  
"Eh, hey! Ya think yer funny?" Rattrap scrambled back, and huffed as the other two laughed. "Put it down, Big Banana, dat's a delicate thing!"  
Optimus complied with a good grace, and let Rattrap boss them around for the next few mega cycles. After all, he didn't know the first thing about mining, while Rattrap knew every piece of equipment by heart. Plus, the sight of the small bot doing the worst job and being happy about it was unusual enough to make it all worthwhile.

"How are you doing?" Rhinox's voice asked from a doorway.  
"Just finished," very dirty Rattrap said triumphantly, wiping some of the grease off his hands with a cleaning cloth. "Everythin' in tip-top shape, an all da credit goes ta me, since those two can't even tell a blower from a mower."  
"Shuddup, Rattrap," Cheetor murmured half-heartedly, and ducked a dirty cloth tossed at his head. It landed at Rhinox's feet, and the green bot rolled his optics. The used cleaning cloth didn't bother him as such, but its origin did. Since Kittar was the only bot onboard who used and produced the items, it was pretty obvious that Rattrap had nicked it from the Med Bay. This would surely result in some kind of trouble in the future. Hopefully, he wouldn't be around for that.  
"Well, I've got four freight hovers working," he said turning to Optimus. "I'll just load them with everything we need, and we can go at the moment's notice."

Optimus grinned. "I'll be sure to give the notice."  
"I'll help you with the packing, Rhinox," Cheetor offered eagerly. He'd found most of the machines fascinating, and he was sure Rhinox could tell him heaps more about them than Rattrap. Plus he just wanted to help. In his eagerness he didn't notice a bit reserved expression on Rhinox's face, but the hand pulling his shoulder was hard to miss.

"I'll give ya a tip, kiddo," Rattrap said into his audio in a stage whisper. "If ya want to live happily ever after, never _ever_ get between a mechanic and packin' his machines." He started pulling the teen-bot out of the packing zone. "Am tellin' ya, I once saw dat guy at Starbase Vert gettin' under feet while they were loadin' da shipment, an..."  
The story and Cheetor's cries of disbelieve died away in the corridor. Optimus gave a small chuckle. He didn't know about technicians in general, but he remembered how reeled up Rhinox could get over misplaced cargo. Back in the bad old days their whole squadron feared the chief technician worse than the entire predacon fleet.  
"You'll be fine?" he said, more of a statement than question, and Rhinox waved him away with a nod.  
Of course he'd be fine, now that no-one was there to bother him. Rhinox heaved the nearest crate with a smile. Thank the Primus for Rattrap.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scorponok was 'flying' over the plains toward Axalon, when a small tap on the shoulder made him aware of other bot's presence. Twitching slightly in surprise, he redirected a feedback from one of his cyber-bees to the main screen, clearing his vision. Then he looked up, feeling a little groggy. It was always taking him a few nanos to re-adjust the perspective after remote scouting.  
Rust politely waited till the scientist's gaze focused before he reported that he was ready to go, so how about giving him some pointers as to how exactly set up all that machinery Scorponok prepared?

More than a little gruff (he _really_ didn't like it when people sneaked up on him when he couldn't see them) Scorponok just opened the right folder and told the youngster to download it and _read_ for a change.  
"Whatever you say, sarge," Rust agreed amiably, transferring and skimming through the data on how to convert a large mountain cave into a large energon storage. Since it looked simple enough, he redirected his attention to the screen showing visuals from the cyber-bee. His optics brightened. "Hey sarge, those bees are really cool. You think you could fix one for me?"  
Scorponok stiffened.

Building mobile, remote micro cameras was, in a way, Scorponok's hobby. In the same way a human could spend most of his free time building plane models, sorting and painting the parts before putting them together, and displaying the results in a special glass cabinet. Such man shouldn't be blamed for getting a little peeved when a three-year-old relative barges into the room and asks if he could play with the toys.

That's why Rust found himself kicked out of the lab faster than he could say: 'why not?'.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The comlink was beeping for some time now, and Tarantulas, hunched over the workbench, tapped it reluctantly. Just a little irritated voice of Megatron informed him ever so graciously that his presence was needed at the grid G4, and Tarantulas had better investigate the suspected Maximal activity if he wanted to get his share of second-grade energon. With voice so sweet that flies should get stuck in it, the scientist promised to do as told.  
Then he closed the connection, and with a derisive snort glanced at the collection of small tubes he kept first-grades in.

Fixing a small refiner was one of the first things he'd done after they crashed on this wretched planet. Megatron would need something much better than mere energy to gain his cooperation. Just to have the purple tin can off his back, Tarantulas reached over to the console and tapped few keys.

Out on the plains a small arachnoid crawled from under the stone. The false signature emitter was activated, and a rout to grid G4 was uploaded into its navigational systems. For everyone looking at the radar, Tarantulas was unhurriedly making his way away from the Predacon base.

As were, in fact, doing Blackarachnia and Terrorsaur, he noted. That meant that Megatron was at the moment surrounded only by the loyal and stupid. He was most probably planning something idiotic again, and Tarantulas decided he'd investigate - after he was finished with the project he was currently working on.

Which was a new type of arachnoid - its energy trail was so weak it would be next to impossible to pick up, it moved just as quietly as real spiders, and its AI was upgraded to seek and find cover in almost every type of terrain.  
It was complicated. It was technologically advanced. It was a moving proof of he's genius.  
And most important of all, it was cat-proof.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside the Predacons' base the racer was whirring, kicking up the clouds of ash in a series of complicated flip-turns and loops.

"Rust awful show off" Waspinator said, flattening himself against the wall as Rust came to a spinning halt in front of him.  
Covered in ash head to toe, Rust grinned. "So what's wrong with that?"  
"You are wasting energy," Scorponok said from where he was tugging at the straps on a packed sledge.

"Oh, come now Sarge. I _am_ the energy. Besides, I gotta know how this baby reacts to sec-grade, she used to work on fresh scum." Rust patted the racer's side affectionately.  
Scorponok shook his head impatiently, once again checked if the refiner was strapped to the sledge securely enough, and clicked his claws worriedly. It seemed to sit firmly, but if Rust was going to drive the way he was doing now...

Behind his back, a sight of fresh paint on the racer caught Waspinator's optics, and he sidled closer. "Pod?" he read aloud. "Why Pod?"  
"PoD, actually, but you're right, Pod sounds better." Rust grinned. "And it was PoD for short from Platform of Death. Terrorsaur's idea." The grin got even wider. "Have no clue why he though it up."

Up, up, up above them, there was the faintest click, made by optic lenses readjusting to give the watcher even sharper zoom.  
"Hmm. So these are Megatron's finest. I wonder what they're up to." A feminine voice murmured.

Down below, the three bots bustled about, and after a while the tallest one hopped onto some kind of hover-vehicle, and sped away, dragging a heavily loaded floater behind.

With a thoughtful expression, Airazor send a message to base.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Get in gears, people, you're moving out!" Optimus's invigorated voice sounded through the intercom. "Rhinox, take Rattrap and Cheetor and go, Dinobot will join you on the way. And does anyone know where Kittar is?"  
"Who cares?" Rattrap asked, entering the control room. "An what's da rush anyway?"  
Optimus was at the radar console, making a double sweeps over the path the mining crew was about to go, to make sure it was Predacon-free. "Airazor just reported that Predacons are scattered across the land, and their base is all but empty," he said. "A perfect moment to go. If we're lucky, they'll never notice you're gone." He turned to the small bot, smiling. Acting on impulse always made him feel better - even if he knew he was likely to regret it. "Well, what are you doing still here? Get moving!"  
Rattrap rolled his optics and left, grumbling.  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so the two parties, maximal and predacon, set off at the same day, in precisely opposite directions. It just shows that reality doesn't have a sense of narrative that they were NOT going to bump into each other, or come back at the precise same time. It would surely make for a good story, but sometimes it just doesn't work that way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-

-

After about a day on the road, Rust realized that he was being followed. His stalker was extremely cautious, but they didn't take under consideration just how sensitive wolf's hearing was. Rust was lying curled in a ball near the parked Pod, (he _did_ need to rest every now and then), when the wind brought a sound to him. He jerked his head up, ears pricking and nostrils quivering. He didn't pick up any scent, and the sound didn't come again, but he knew what he'd heard. A roar of distant jets. Not of the crude jetpack Primal was using, but finely tuned engines of a built flyer. And not Terrorsaur's - those he would recognize everywhere.

So. There was a lady on his tail. Rust smirked, and went back to sleeping. He had no objections to being trailed by a pretty flyer. No sir, no objections at all.  
­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After about a day on the road, the Maximals realized that they had a stowaway. The person in question didn't even bother to hide their presence - upon waking up, they simply slid from under tarpaulin covering the cargo. Rhinox, Cheetor and Dinobot were sitting near the parked hovers, re-energizing, (they were driving in robot-modes, and the strong field-dumpers were draining them like crazy), when the heavily accented voice brought the news to them.

"What in da fraggin' Pit are ya doin' here, cat?!!!"  
On Dinobot's face appeared a smirk, quickly disguised as a scowl. Cheetor jumped happily to greet the other cat in the team. Rhinox sighed.  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The small arachnoid detected an energy signature nearby, and scurried backwards, digging itself under the nearby branch. Once there, it slowly stuck out a small jib with a camera on it and directed it on the source of signature. The source's mandibles formed a pleased smile.  
Cackling triumphantly, Tarantulas summoned the arachnoid and picked it up when it came near. "It works. How gratifying."  
Now all he had to do was to build more of them, and send them to scout over the cat-infested area. Soon, he'd be able to monitor all movements of the Maximals. With this kind of advantage, he could do anything.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mining site number one was a scenic and peaceful place - which was about to change radically.

"Fire in da hole!" Rattrap yelled, ducking behind a rock.

The explosion shook the air, and a big slice of a white cliff wall slid majestically down, revealing a vein of rusty-pinkish crystals.  
"Aaaaand jackpot!" Rattrap announced triumphantly, jumping back over the rock and skidding down the slope towards their prize.  
"This?" Cheetor followed him and picked up a split off piece of scheelite. He turned it in his fingers. "But it's just a rock!"  
"Huh, not after Rhinox is through wit' dem. Just bring it ta him an watch da magic!"

Rather doubtful but curious, Cheetor started gathering the small crystals in a heap, where Rattrap was cleaning them of any inclusions and remains of a host rock, using a small laser cutter. It looked very easy, and after he cleared the area of almost all visible pink rocks, Cheetor tried his hand at the clear-out.

Three cycles later Kittar was huffing and puffing over his cut fingers, and not only he had to suffer through the itching (and unnecessary in his opinion) repairs, but she also confiscated the spare cutter Rattrap had given him.  
"Does she think I'm a sparkling?" he complained angrily, when she finally left him alone and went to explore the area.  
"Yep, I think she does. Ya still like her, kiddo?"  
"Oh, shuddup, Rattrap."

Cheetor continued sulking, until Rhinox called him over to the machine that looked mostly like three fused boxes of different sizes, the biggest one with two sides transparent. They filled that box to the brim with pinkish rocks, and then the magic began.  
Cheetor's task was to feed the machine a steady flow of energon crystals. Each one was making its way down the short chute to the ignition chamber, where a short bite of laser was destroying its crystalline structure, releasing its energy in a chain of small explosions - and then said energy was being used to power up the c-ray box.

"Jumping gyros!" Cheetor almost forgot about energon in his hands, when the rocks started crumbling into a gray dust. "What's happening?"  
"Keep the influx steady," Rhinox reminded him. He was watching control panel like a hawk, and for a reason. Ignition engines were extremely capricious things, with explosive temperament - and that's putting it lightly. Rhinox's hands were moving continuously over the dials and buttons, keeping the energy flow steady. "The c-rays are disrupting the molecular bonds in chemical compounds," he said in answer to Cheetor's question.

"Dey break things down to atoms, an keep 'em dat way," Rattrap added, coming up to them. "I get to do da honors, Rhinox?" At the technicians nod, he activated the antigravity driver placed at the base of the c-ray box, and readjusted the power carefully. The swirl of dust inside the box slowly stratified. Satisfied with the effect, Rattrap run his fingers along the sides of the box, pushing here and there, and lo, thin platinum plates suddenly popped up from the sides, closing up around the two layers of dust, making them in two small packages. Just like a magic box.

Rhinox powered down the engine, and Rattrap pulled the upper small box out. "So here kiddo, we have calcium, which we can just dump--"  
"Cake it, Rattrap," Rhinox said. Rattrap scowled. "--after we cake it," he said, shaking his head and putting the box on a black plate on top of the split generator. The energy crackled over it for a cycle.  
"Here," Rattrap said, ripping the thin layer of platinum off, and putting it away for future use. "One calcium brick for non-environmental-hazardous safety inspectors." He threw what indeed looked very much like a gray brick aside. "And here's what we came for." He repeated the process with the three times smaller but four times heavier lower box.  
" 'Bout forty pounds of wolfram, if I'm not mistaken, an I rarely am." He handed the bar to awed Cheetor. "Cool!" The teen bot weighted the bright metal in his hand.  
"Four more of these should make Kittar happy for a long time," Rhinox remarked, filling the c-ray box with the second helping of scheelite.  
Cheetor looked at him surprised. "Just five bars? Why don't we make more?"  
"Well, for one thing, I doubt this vein could give us more than three hundred pounds."  
"An da others are much deeper in da rock face," Rattrap added.  
"And for the other thing..." Rhinox gestured to the hover Cheetor had been taking energon from. The teen bot took a look at it, and whistled.  
"Holy scrap!" Even though he was the one feeding the crystals to the machine, he didn't quite realize just how much he'd already used.  
"Yeah, dis baby has an appetite," Rattrap said. Cheetor nodded automatically. Now he understood why three of four hovers were stuffed with energon crystals to the point where the person at the wheel barely had a place to stand.  
"Well, lets get back to work and see how much we can do with what we've got," Rhinox decided.

In the end they produced in total eight forty-pound bars, which Kittar rewarded with extra loud purring after she came back from wherever she'd wandered off to. The sound of it almost drowned out the growl of freight hover engines when they set off.  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rust was in really foul mood. He had to be mindful of his cargo, hence no stunt driving. He kept hearing Airazor's jets every now and then, but he couldn't get even a glimpse of her, no matter how hard he tried. He was obliged to maintain radio silence, so he couldn't talk to anybody. And to top all that, he'd somehow got fleas again. In robot mode!  
They itchy little fraggers were happily hopping all over his beast-mode parts, and he could swear some of them had even crawled into his shoulder joints. The whole situation felt like 'auuUUuuUUUuu!'

Airazor swiftly swooped from one cloud to the other. Swooping was something hawks were apparently very good at, and she enjoyed the ease her beast mode performed the action with. If it weren't for the fact that she needed to keep pace with the young Predacon, she would happily stay hawk the whole time. As it was, she had to maximize every now and then to catch up to Rust's vehicle.  
So far, the Predacon didn't do anything special - just drove straight ahead, stopping every few megas to reenergize and recharge, and she was using these periods to do the same.  
But now he did something that didn't make any sense at all, and amazed Airazor wondered if it was possible for such young transformer to be suicidal.

Rust pulled the racer to a sharp stop near a small lake, and hopped off it. He briefly glanced back to make sure the floater stopped as well, and very decidedly waded into the water. He kept moving until it covered him completely, and then he beastmoded. He didn't care how much water would get into his gears in the process, or how long he'd have to stay there. Someone was going to drown today - either the fleas or him!

­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mining site number two was very much like the first one.

"Rocks again," Cheetor said without much enthusiasm. "At least they _look_ kinda metallic this time."  
"Ya just don't appreciate da beauty of da simple things, do ya, kiddo." Rattrap was actually smiling at the yellowish particles in his fingers.  
Cheetor felt his jaw hinges going slack. He carefully made his way to Rhinox's side. "What's up with Rattrap?" he asked, bewildered. "I mean, it's an awful job, and he looks, like, happy." Cheetor spent a while observing Rattrap, a disbelieve written all over his face. Rhinox just smiled at the split generator controls. The secret behind the contentment radiating from the small bot was that he liked his job, pure and simple. He might claim there was no better place than Cybertron, but he'd never been as happy there as at one of Vespa system's colonies. As if in answer to mechanic's thoughts, Rattrap spoke.

"Just like good ol' times, eh Big Green? Just rocks an machines, no Preds, no cats, an no people shooting at us."  
"Except for your creditors," Rhinox said with seriousness that almost masked his smile.

"Eh! Dat only happened once!" Rattrap protested, while Cheetor instantly perked up. Nothing like a good story to ease the boredom. "Someone was shooting at you? Why?"  
Rattrap made a vague gesture that could mean anything. "T'was just da biggest strike of bad luck dis side of da galaxy." He looked at the hopeful expression on Cheetor's face, and decided to give the kid a full story. It sounded even crazier than when Rhinox first heard it, full of greedy cheats, hasty crime lords, rigged games and improbable card hands. All of this of course spiked with silly jokes that Cheetor laughed at, even if he didn't quite get them.  
Someone else found the story amusing though. Rattrap suddenly turned to face a crate from the top of which a sound best described as purring chuckle came. "No one asked yer opinion, red-tail!"  
The chuckle factor ceased, while the purring increased.  
"Stop whirring an get away from 'ere, you're in my way!" Rattrap demanded, even tough he didn't really need that crate at the moment.

The amber eyes cracked a fraction, and the whiskered lips formed a lazy smile, but the rest of the cat didn't twitch. Rattrap gave a frustrated growl. She was simply infuriating!  
Then he spotted a salvation approaching. "Oy, Chopperface! Ya've misplaced yer pet, come here an get it!"

Dinobot snarled, in a not threatening, but I'm-about-to-speak way. For the past two solar-cycles he'd been more or less left to his own devices, which qualified as perfect working conditions. Their current location was a good defensive spot, and there was no sing of Megatron threat. That meant the predacon warrior was in as good mood as he could get. Also, there was a small herd of funny looking antelopes on the neighboring plain. In fact, he was just heading to mention to Kittar that she couldn't _possibly_ sneak up on them.  
And now Rattrap's demand gave him even better excuse.  
"We're going for a hunt, cat," he informed her.  
Kittar opened an eye to look at him thoughtfully. After a nano or three, she stood up, stretched, and set off toward the plains.

The corners of raptors mouth twitched and eyes half closed in a smug half smile. "You shall owe me one, vermin," Dinobot said, moving to follow the cat.  
"Yea, yea, a BIG one. Just keep 'er away, an everyone's happy," Rattrap murmured. None of them noticed one of the red ears flicking, and an amber eye shooting a curious glance at them. In the depths of Kittar's processor, an information was confirmed and assimilated. A favor for a favor. Got it.

While Kittar and Dinobot were decreasing the local gnu population, the rest of mining party got busy.  
"Isn't that enough?" Cheetor almost whined after three cycles of retrieving the small metallic pebbles. Rattrap cast a glance into a sizeable crate, containing about three tons of bertrandite. "It might be. Rhinox, is da big lady ready?"  
"Ready when you are," the deep rumble confirmed, and Cheetor almost jumped with joy. He rushed to the machine, and grabbed four energon crystals at once. "I'm ready!"

The split process looked a little different this time. For one, Rattrap vented the c-ray box before opening it. ("Hydrogen at da top, oxygen at da bottom - we don't wanna dose two mix over da equipment"). For two, this time it was the upper package they were going to keep, and even though it was approximately same size as wolfram bars...

"It doesn't have any weight in it!" Cheetor weighted the caked beryllium in his hand.  
"About five pounds," Rhinox corrected good-naturedly. "Beryllium's a light metal."

And for three, the last product of the process was a bit surprising. Caking it, Rattrap used the lowest power settings, ("Just ta make sure dere ain't no wild isotopes, kiddo"), and then carelessly ripped the platinum wrapping off, spilling its content to the ground. Cheetor crouched over the small heap to take a better look. "Is that sand?" he asked incredulously.  
"Silicon. Dat's what da sand is." Cheetor gave him a puzzled look, and Rattrap snorted. "Didn't dey teach ya anything in dat fancy school, kiddo?"  
"Hey, I was learning to be a pilot!" Cheetor snapped defensively.  
"Chill your circuits, bots, we've got work to do," Rhinox's calm voice interrupted the upcoming 'my background is better than your background' discussion. "We need at least three hundred fifty pounds."  
Cheetor looked at the crate with a five-pound bar in it, did the math, and groaned.

When the hunting party came back at the sunset, two freight hovers were free of energon. Eighty bars of steel-gray metal lay on them instead. And beside the hovers lay a massive form of a rhino, a rat and a cheetah curled nose to tail at his sides.

Kittar's eyes gleamed with the starlight, as she sniffed at the motionless forms. "Sleeping," she informed Dinobot. He acknowledged with a small snarl. Then he silently stalked off to circle the camp, while Kittar sat near the sleeping Maximals. In the dark of the night, the two predators kept watch.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night still reigned the world when, after just a mega-cycle of resting, the wolf stood up, yawning. As entertaining as being followed was, it was time to part ways. He couldn't very well let the Maximals discover his destination after Megatron went to all the trouble to hide it even from the Predacons.

With any luck, Airazor would have got used to his traveling routine, and setting off earlier and in different direction would be enough to shake her off.  
And to not leave too much to luck, Rust pulled his good old trusty backpack out of Pod's trunk and linked it with her nose. Of course, trudging as a wolf through the jungle, with a backpack and two hovercrafts in tow, could be challenging. Difficult, even.  
Rust stifled a chuckle. No downsides, then.

&&&&

Optimus tapped a button to accept the incoming message almost before the first beep ended. Being the only one left at the Axalon made him just a little bit edgy. He hadn't left the control room since Rhinox&Co left, and he kept searching vid-screens and radar for any sign of predacon activity. Ironically, the unusual peace and quiet on the other side of the fence was getting on his nerves.  
"Report?" he demanded curtly. Airazor voice at the other side of connection was half apologetic, half resigned.  
:: Optimus, I've lost him. He must have set off earlier than usual. I've searched the path further on his earlier course, but he's not there. ::

"Did you scan the area for energy signature of his craft?"

:: I did. There's only a weak trail from yesterday, but it ends at the spot he'd stopped to rest. He just... disappeared. ::

"Prime. Airazor, make back to Axalon at top speed. I want you to be near in case of any trouble."  
:: I'm on my way. Airazor out. ::

­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mining site number three made Kittar suspicious.

"A beach," she said, staring ahead. A vast shoal of dark, nearly black sand stretched out to a distant line of ocean. Ocean. Water. _Wet_.  
Kittar's fur raised slightly.  
"Yes, princess, a beach," came a biting voice from behind.  
The cat wrinkled her nose. "Why beach?"  
"Sand," the rat said cryptically, and went past her, keeping his tail up in a parody of her usual posture. Kittar looked at him, then sniffed at the sand. After a moment's thought, she maximized and took a handful of dirt, letting it slip between her fingers. "Oh," she said. "Titanium."  
Rattrap spun in place, sputtering. "How did ya know?"  
For a second she looked so lost as if he'd asked her how did she know the sky was blue.  
Then an understanding flickered in her optics, and she raised a hand, palm first. "Sensors," she said. And, explanations completed, she beastmoded and went to find herself a nice, dry patch of sand.  
"Sensors," Rattrap repeated, turning to Rhinox. "Now, that explains everything. Not!"  
"Medics' hands are sensitive," Rhinox remarked, unpacking the rear half of his hover. All what he needed was there, neat and in order. "A surgeon has to know what they're touching."  
"Yea, maybe..."  
Come to think of it, on the rare occasions she wasn't parading around in fur, Kittar always kept her hands half curled, and never touched anything if she could avoid it. Rattrap twitched his whiskers, dismissing the thought. He stood up on his hind paws, reaching for the blower, but stopped to gesticulate as he spoke.  
"_But_, if ya don't remember, we didn't _have _any female medic with us, so what say ya we pack da fur ball up and return to da Preds what belongs to dem?"

With a sigh, Rhinox picked up an energo-magnet, and set it on the sand very, very firmly.  
Rattrap took a hint. "Awright, shuttin' up. Oy, kiddo! Come over 'ere!"  
A very wet and very happy cheetah sprinted to them from the distant waves. "I'm ready! What do I do?"

"Well, ah, transformin' might be a nice start..."  
"I mean _beside _that," Cheetor huffed, maximizing. Rattrap shoved one end of what seemed to be mostly a big elastic tube into his hands. "Ya just aim dat at dat ring on top of da magnet."  
Cheetor did as told, looking curiously as the green bot pushed few buttons. /_Hum_/ went the magnet, and even Cheetor, inexperienced as he was, felt the change in the electromagnetic fields around. It felt a little uncomfortable - like there was a pack of ants crawling under his plating. Cheetor took two steps back, and the feeling lessened.  
Rhinox checked the readings, readjusted some dials and gave Rattrap a thumb up.  
The small bot tapped the switch, and then, when nothing happened, gave the engine a good thump. It coughed, started, and the tube went /_swoosh_/.  
"Oh, great, a giant vacuum clea-- yip!" Cheetor started saying, and then yelped, as the sand that had been sucked in at Rattrap's end went out at his. The impetus almost ripped the metal rim out of his hands, sending into the air a big cloud of fine sand - just like a dryer version of a rabid water hose.  
"Sorry," the teen-bot said sheepishly, after the coughing and optic-cleaning routine. To his amazement, Rattrap just waved his hand good-naturedly. "Happens to da best. Keep it firmer, dat's all."

They started again, the blower spitting the steady flow of dirt through the metal hoop of energo-magnet. Cheetor's optics went slightly wider, as he observed it split - part of the sand landed where by all rights it should - in a brownish heap behind the machine. But about half of it pasted the sides of the hoop with a black coat. "Ultra gear! What is it?"  
"Almost pure ilmenite," Rhinox said in a very pleased voice, raising his gaze from the readings. "It contains iron, so it's easy to isolate." He nodded at Rattrap. "Enough for now, I need to cake it."  
"An dat means, kiddo, we have a break," Rattrap announced, shutting down the blower and beastmoding with a content sigh.

­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Sentinel was on full alert, which was only to be expected. Airazor landed in a safe distance, commanding it to stand down. The force field shut down for just long enough to let her enter the lift. Had she moved any slower, it would have locked her out.  
"Don't you think the admittance shut down should be a bit longer, Optimus?" she asked, entering the control room. No one answered. "Optimus?"  
There was a small mumble from across the room, and Airazor had to put a hand to her mouth to stifle the laughter.  
At the radar console, with his head nestled in his crossed arms, Optimus Primal was sleeping like a sparkling.

­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were a lot of sounds at the beach. The distant waves, the soft whisper of poured sand, the low hum of magnet and steady thrum of blower. Add to it sunrays sending their thermostats indo overdrive, and the easy job they didn't really need to think of, and what you get is three Maximals sinking slowly into a content stupor.

There is an ancient rule in the universe that says that when you're doing something important, no matter how simple, there will always be a complication. This rule has many forms, and is more commonly knows as Murphy's Law.  
It was loitering around the Maximals for some time now, and this moment of relaxation was perfect to strike.

There was a sharp crack, a yelp of pain, and the air filled with sand gone berserk.  
Blinded, chocking and confused, Cheetor still managed to do the right thing. He dropped his end of the tube, and threw himself in the direction he'd heard Rattrap's yell from. After just four steps he tripped over something, which proved to be the engine of the blower, still whirring and kicking up the small sandstorm. After a moment of blind groping for the switch, Cheetor slapped his forehead and simply lifted the accursed thing off the ground.

Without the reinforcements, the sand had to surrender the assault and return to the ground it came from. In the settling dust, a pair of red lights appeared, shortly followed by the vague outlines of Rattrap. He was kneeling on the ground, clutching tightly at his left upper arm. Coughing up a small cloud of sand, the rat-bot looked at the blower in Cheetor's hands, and gave him a pained thumb up. "Good thinkin', kiddo."

"Rattrap, are you all right? What happened?" Cheetor hastily switched the engine off and dumped it, rushing to help Rattrap up.  
"Da tube ruptured an da cable backlashed," the small bot explained, getting to his feet on his own. "It got me over da shoulder, but I'm FINE."  
The insistence in the last world was a little confusing to Cheetor, but only until a commanding voice behind him said: "No, you're not. SIT."

Rattraps legs folded almost on their own volition, and Kittar grabbed his cut arm, murmuring something about possible fracturing and sand in the fuel lines. Cheetor chuckled and performed a strategic retreat.

Teenager's word of wisdom: never _ever_ get between a medic and her victim. True to his own advice, Cheetor joined Rhinox in inspecting the broken blower. "What's wrong with it, Rhinox? Can you fix it?"  
Slowly shaking his head, Rhinox took a hold of the torn edge of the tube, and pulled. He effortlessly tore away a long elastic strip and handed it to Cheetor. The teen-bot inspected it, wondering what was he supposed to see. The cross section caught his optic. What at the first glance was a four millimeters thick carbon nano-tubes fabric, was in fact two thin layers of worn synt-fabric, covering a layer of some greenish substance, which crumbled under his touch.

"Hey, what's that?"  
"A century old transilt, (3)" Rhinox said grimly. Rattrap felt obliged to expand on the statement.

"A technical word is: 'jus' ya wait till I get my hands on da bastards who sell used in-planet equipment as a new all-terrain type.' "  
Kittar laughed quietly, and Rattrap scowled at her. "Ya better watch what yer doing, fur-ball, I don't wanna my cables mixed up!"  
The medic huffed at him, offended. She was always watching what she was doing! And she was absolutely sure she'd never mixed up anyone's cables. Anyway, if _he_ was watching what she was doing, he'd know that she was done with the cables already. She was now working on few scratched wires. And few cycles later she started closing the injury. With a microscopic precision.

Unaware of what went on at his limb, Rattrap craned his neck to better see what Rhinox was doing.  
"Though luck fixing dat, ol' buddy. Do we have a duct tape?"  
"Nope, it all went into engines," Rhinox answered automatically, and they both smiled a little crooked smiles. Cheetor looked from one to the other. "What?"  
"An old story," Rhinox not-explained. "Here. Hold it to the light, we'll try to fix the least worn pieces together."

But, as it turned out, there weren't enough of solid pieces for that. After half a mega Rhinox gave up. "I can fix a new tube once we're back, but for now we're done with sand." He stood up and went to the already caked black blocks. "We've got about seven hundred twenty pounds of ilmenite, that should give us two hundred twenty pounds of titanium." He smiled and just on principal added: "Give or take few ounces."

"Will that be enough for her majesty?" Rattrap asked tersely, turning to glare at Kittar.  
"For now," she said absentmindedly. Then she gave Rattrap's arm a long, quizzical look, and nodded to herself. "You're all fixed up," she said, and un-subspaced a cleaning cloth to carefully clean her tools before retracing them into her fingers.

"Great news," Rattrap murmured, and looked at the gash in his arm. Which wasn't there. That is to say, there was absolutely no trace that his arm had been injured. "Whatta--?" Rattrap raised his arm and turned it this way and that. If he focused, he could make out a slightly brighter line of fresh metal, and that was it.  
_Frag, she's __**good**__... Which doesn't change the fact that she's the biggest pain in the circuits on four paws, of course. _Flexing his arm experimentally, Rattrap walked up to Rhinox. "So, we're goin' or what?"

"Yep. Just give me a moment to pack. You can call Dinobot back in the meantime."  
"Ya really know how to make my day, ol' buddy," the small bot sighed theatrically.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I think they need more light," Airazor said, bending over her small plant collection with concern. "Do we have a large room with a skylight, Optimus?"  
Optimus, refreshed and full of optimism after a full-time recharge, smiled at her. "Not yet." He activated the wrist cannon and aimed it at the ceiling. "Where do you want one?"  
The femme laughed. "Somewhere on the upper deck, maybe?" Optimus lowered his hand with a grin. "Good point. We'll think of something as soon as Rhinox and Rattrap are back. They handle most of the improvements."  
Airazor smiled a really charming smile. "Thank you."  
"My pleasure."

­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fourth mining site turned out to be hostile even before they got there.

After suffering the shocks of energon surge for about forth time, Dinobot forced Rhinox to stop ahead of time.  
"This is ridiculous! We are getting surges despite the dumpers. If Megatron chooses to attack now, none of us will be fit to fight him back."  
Rattrap opened his mouth to say something on the lines of 'speak for yourself, Dinobreath,' but he surged after the first syllable, and it effectively changed his mind.

"He's got a point dere, Rhinox," he said, earning a few surprised stares. "We can't go on like dis."  
"No we can't," Rhinox agreed, and pulled out few energon crystals and the feeders. "Let's get some energy, then I'll think of something."

What he thought of in the end was the simplest solution possible. They linked each two hovers together, which meant that only two of them where driving, while the other two rested in beast mode. Well, three, actually, but Kittar had been doing the latter all the time. And thanks to that fact she was the only one fresh like a clear spring morning when they've finally arrived to their destination. Hence, she was the one to go scouting - or loitering, if you listened to Rattrap - and she was the one to make a discovery.

The area was indeed spiked with energon in its all forms. Crystals, grain fields, geysers, pools... and one of the pools, by a freak accident of nature, was not an unstable variation at all. It wasn't even natural scum. It was in fact...  
"A second grade," Kittar said incredulously, smearing a drop of it between her fingers. "I don't believe it."

&&&&

"I don't believe it," Rattrap said, sipping carefully at the shimmering liquid. For once Kittar's 'look what I've got' turned out to be a highly interesting find. "It's like winnin' on da roulette twenty times straight, an do ya know how likely is dat? "  
"I have no doubt that you'll enlighten us, vermin, given your vast experience in playing pointless games." Dinobot's voice wasn't as full of venom as one might expect. It was mostly due to the fact that he was putting the better part of his venom supplies into a glare directed at the small pool. He hadn't yet tried the stuff, and wasn't planning to. Rhinox and Kittar could claim that it was natural and not tainted, but he knew better. One was not drinking processed energon of unknown origin at the time of war, end of story.

"None at all," Rattrap continued between the sips. "So it can only mean two things: either someone's cheatin', or da Universe has somethin' nasty headin' our way." He stood up decidedly. "So drink up, kiddo, we've got the Pit of a work to do."

And it was a very good choice of phrase, since they were going to leave one big pit behind once they were finished. But first things first.  
"It is normally used in energon mines, " Rhinox said, fixing a flat box to Cheetor's midsection. "It prevents the energon surges."  
"What? So why don't we use them all the time? I mean, instead of beast-modes?"  
"Ya'll know soon enough, kiddo," Rattrap said, clicking a similar device to his own side. "As they say, once you try it, ya never wanna do it again." He ignored an angry snort from behind.

Kittar was sitting few paces from them, her tail sweeping the dust. She had noticed the blockers the moment Rhinox unpacked them, and she didn't like them one bit. Nothing that smelled of corodium could be a good news. But Rhinox explained to her that she was not to mess with the things. He even went as far as carrying her away from them by the scurf of her neck, completely ignoring the hissing. So now she just glared daggers at Rhinox's back, until it became clear he was not going to react. "I'll be near when da things cause da trouble," she said pointedly, and stomped away to the shocking distance of twenty meters, where she curled into a ball of angrily hurt dignity.

Cheetor looked after her with wide optics, then poked at the questionable piece of equipment. "Are you sure we need those, Rhinox?" he asked uncertainly.  
Rattrap frowned and shook a finger at him. "Ey! Don't diss da mechanic, kiddo! He can save yer life one day. Ya know, we had a saying back at Vespa 3 - Dere's Bigstorm, and den dere's Primus, but when da tunnel starts ta crack all around ya, don't bother praying to Primus."  
Cheetor looked at him curiously. "Who's Bigstorm?"  
Rattrap jerked his thumb. "See dat big guy with a stormy expression on his face?"

Rhinox indeed had a stormy expression on his face, more so than Cheetor had ever seen on him. He crossed his arms and glared sternly. "Don't make up things like that, Rattrap."  
"Cross my spark and hope ta die, we really used to say dat! Scraphunter came up with dat one after ya saved his aft in the shaft 18."  
The stormy expression darkened a few shades - a black clouds and thunders approaching. "He'd be better off paying attention to what I said, than inventing proverbs." Lightening, thunder, and rain.  
Cheetor was impressed. "Whoah, I've never seen _that_ look before." Rattrap grinned. "No? We used to get dat all da time, 'specially when someone tried ta pull somethin' stupid."  
Cheetor's face was a picture of curiosity. "Like what?"  
"Like trying to go down the shaft while still intoxicated after whole night's drinking," Rhinox said pointedly, and Rattrap suffered a sudden coughing attack and an irresistible urge to get the job done. "Yea, well, lets get movin', kiddo!"

&&&&

After few cycles of fuming, Kittar uncurled and sat up to watch the works. It was pretty monotonous - few explosions, digging up the loosened earth. Explosions, digging, explosions, digging. Nothing interesting. She turned her head toward Rhinox. Not much of an improvement - he was stuck elbows deep into split generator's engine, readjusting it to work on sec-grade. Kittar puffed angrily in his direction.

So maybe it was necessary for working in strong energon fields, but she didn't like the idea of putting into bots' fluid systems a substance that was, basically, a poison. Of course corodium would prevent energon surges. It was disabling _all kinds_ of energy transfer, fraggit! And there were _stimulants_ included in the mix!  
Kittar calculated the possible micro-damages after five-mega-cycles exposure, and sniffed thoughtfully. Then she maximized and unsubspaced a set of vials. She only had few basic solutions with her, but she could work with that.

&&&&

"So what are we getting this time?" Cheetor asked, trailing after Rattrap, as he placed another set of point-charges in the already sizable hole in the ground.  
"A lil bit of everthin'," Rattrap said, backing away to the safe distance, and waving for Cheetor to follow. "We're mostly after nickel and cobalt, but we'll also get all kinda byproducts." He remote-detonated the explosives. The relatively quiet bang was followed by a sound of deep cracks in the ground opening. "Can't tell ya what exactly - with a low percentage meteorite ores it's usually one big lottery." He peeked into the hole, and nodded, satisfied. "Well, back ta work!"

&&&&

Two full syringes disappeared in Kittar's sub-pockets and she smiled to herself. Once again at peace with the world, she beastmoded and lied down, exposing her belly to the sun. For few moments she observed the working team, and after she was sure they weren't going to need her for some time, she let her eyelids close.

Her processor spun slowly, as she run through the data of the last repair she'd made on Dinobot. There was a minor skirmish over the energon, and Megatron's laser had cut right through Dinobot's central motoric net extension cord, and it took her nine point twenty cycles to get him mobile again. As he said and she agreed, it was Too Slow.  
She found the schematics of the warrior's frame, put the virtual injury through it, and begun the repairs.

&&&&

Rhinox raised his head at the loud crack and few colorful words. "Can the Breglayish, Rattrap," he said, because he shared Optimus's view that Cheetor didn't need to learn this kind of vocabulary. He then came closer to look at the two miners inquisitively. "What happened?"  
Rattrap rolled his optics at the reprimand, and raised a hand full of shards in answer to the question. "Da fuse snapped. Nothin' ta worry about." Rhinox nodded and went back to the engine. When it came down to explosives, Rattrap was a miracle worker. One broken fuse couldn't stop him.

&&&&

Kittar got the repairs under four cycles, and purred contently. Now, if the same kind of injury would happen to Optimus...  
She tucked Dinobot's schematics back into the folder they belonged to, and unfolded another one.  
...That would be much more hazardous for the bot's health, because of the jetpack worked into his design. The shot would either graze its fuel line, or sever it completely. In the first occurrence, the repairs were banal. She ran the simulation in under two cycles. The second possibility though...

&&&&

"How are you doing this?" Cheetor whined, watching Rattrap seemingly effortlessly moving the crumbled dirt over the hole edge. No matter how careful he was, Cheetor was spilling half of the load every time he tried that.  
Rattrap laughed good-naturedly. "I've spent a better part of my life doing dat. Da practice forges a mastership as dey say." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Both in da minin' an survivin' yer technician goin' all terse on ya."  
Cheetor snickered, stealing a glance in Rhinox direction. "But Rhinox isn't all that terse," he said. "It couldn't have been all that bad."  
It was Rattrap's turn to snicker. "Don't let me start on how bad it could of be," was his answer.

&&&&

A little annoyed grunt escaped Kittar's vocalizer, as she found a twenty percent possibility of coolant leakage into Optimus's hardcore cavity. She backtracked few steps in repairs, put a small clamp on the fluid line, and made a note to remove it in four-to-five cycles later to avoid overheating the secondary ventral servomotors. Then she returned to moping up the mess that was Optimus's energon-flooded chest cavity.

&&&&

Cheetor stifled a laugher at the end of another mechanics-are-scary anecdote. "But you are, like, best friends," he said after a moment. Rattrap shrugged. "It's easy to get used to a guy who get ya outta Pit-hole," he said casually.  
Cheetor blinked. "What? What do you mean?"  
For a few moments Rattrap was quiet, digging thoughtfully, then he shrugged again and asked: "Ever been in a bad part of town, kiddo?"  
Cheetor, whose short five decades of life would be best described as sheltered childhood, shook his head. Rattrap sniffed.  
"Didn't think ya would. Anyway, dat's what my home colony became after da war - one big bad part of galaxy. Nasty neighbors, awful weather, an dose (&$&$$) Preds taking over almost everythin'. If ya were a Maximal, ya were only thinkin' of where to get some energy an how to survive da next mega-cycle. An one day Rhinox just popped up outta nowhere an said dat if I wanted to try my luck at Vespa System, he could try an smuggle me dere. Just like that."

_I thought he was a slaver or something like that at the time. But at this point, I just didn't care... _

"And he did it," he added. "I spent da most uncomfortable three solars imaginable, stuffed into a crate like so many spare parts, an labeled a luggage. An Rhinox was sneaking da energon bars for me from da crew supplier. T'was a miracle we weren't discovered an kicked outta air-lock." The transwarp-liners were infamous for they're strict rules toward stowaways.  
Cheetor knew that, and his optics were big as plates as he looked at Rattrap and then at Rhinox in awe. "Wow."

"Yeah, dat was basically my reaction too," Rattrap smirked. "An now, kiddo, let's move this rubble."

&&&&

After thirty-six cycles to the point, Kittar put the last temporary weld on Optimus's chestplate. Then she spent twice as much time double checking the results. All seemed to be in order. She wiggled slightly, licked her nose, and begun the procedure all over again, this time at the highest speed she could work at without losing focus. She finished in eighteen point five cycles.

&&&&

Rattrap sat down heavily near Rhinox and looked over at the red cat with disgust. "Just lookit 'er, Rhinox, lyin' around all day, doin' nothing! What is she here fer anyway, huh?"

The red cat moved slightly in her 'sleep'.  
The same kind of wound on Rattrap...  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tarantulas put an arachnoid on the table, and it resolutely crawled from under his hand and began its long march toward Axalon. The scientist cackled. This was the thirty-third cat-proof mechanism that left his lab. He deemed that a perfect number to infiltrate the so far impenetrable part of the land. Now all he had to do was wait for any interesting information being sent to him by his little servants.

­---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once you try it, you never want to do this again. The words didn't make much sense to Cheetor when he first heard them. But after removing the blocker from his side, he was ready to subscribe to them. Twice. "Ooooh, jumping gyros..." he groaned, loosing his balance and sitting down heavily. Rattrap collapsed next to him with a groan. "Oh bot, I forgot how much fun dat was..."  
"What's happening to us?" the teen-bot asked, confused and not just a little scared. There wasn't a single circuit in his body that worked properly, and the self diagnostic was displaying scrambled warning messages across his vision.

"A stimulant withdrawal and whole-frame poisoning," Kittar's sour voice sounded in his audio, and he felt his hand being lifted. "Hold still," she ordered, he felt a small prick on his fuel intake, and in few nanos he drifted away into a peaceful off-line.  
"Keep dat thing away from me," Rattrap managed to murmur, before he too was sent to the la-la-land.

Rhinox sighed lightly but didn't protest. For one, it wouldn't do much good, since she'd already drugged them. For two, he trusted her to take care of them, and for three, now that the ignition engine was out of equation, he could operate the split generator on his own. He should be ready when the two wake up, and they'd be able to go back home. With that in mind, he got to work.

&&&&

Dinobot snarled, twitching his claws. The area was perfectly safe and peaceful, yet it was grinding on his senses for some reason. He was getting increasingly uneasy for the past nine mega-cycles, and quite suddenly he realized what was bothering him. There were no animals. He'd seen evidences of there being some inhabitants here, but no inhabitants as such. And he'd learn long ago not to ignore the native life forms. (It was a lesson hard to forget - Optimus still had that ill-tempered plant in his quarters). Making an abrupt turn, the raptor sprinted toward the group of Maximals.

The first thing he noticed upon arriving were cubes of different sizes and colors, scattered all over the place. Apparently Rhinox was very strict about caking every single byproduct.  
The second thing were the hovers, packed and ready to go. Perfect.

"I believe we should clear the area," he said, stepping over yawning Rattrap. "There seems to be something amiss."  
Rattrap punched raptor's leg as he passed.

"Oy, watch were yer goin', Scale-belly! An what is it, a day fer da preds feelin' twitchy?"  
Dinobot bared his teeth at the rat. "Is your blabbering suppose to mean something, pest?"  
"Kittar's been telling us to go for almost a mega now," Cheetor explained, too concerned to notice that he was cutting in. "And I had a really weird dream..."  
"Eh, yer all goin' crazy," Rattrap murmured, and minced toward Rhinox. "We'd better go before dey all go postal on us."  
"Uh-huh," Rhinox agreed, and turned to the rest of the party. "All right everyone, lets move."  
Among the general bustle, no-one noticed Rattrap picking up and subspacing few small, dark bars. And even if they did, they wouldn't think much of it. After all, what kind of mischief can one cause with few pounds of magnesium?

Heh.

"Fasssster," Kittar hissed, jumping on Rattrap's hover. He pushed her off, but she was too upset to react. She couldn't tell what was bothering her exactly; all she knew was that they had to leave this place now, now, NOW!  
"Will you go already?!" she yelled, frustrated with their snail-pace.

-

Two kilometers away from them there was a small fault.  
Imagine two masses of rock keeping grating against each other, moving through the centuries a nanometer by nanometer.  
Imagine a deposit of energon trapped deep underground at the verge of one of them.  
Imagine it being constantly compressed under the pressure of rocks.  
Imagine the rocks pressing just one nanometer too far.

-

Kittar's fur raised on its own in animalistic precognition. "Beastmode, everybody!" she yelled, and the alarm in her voice reached straight to the Maximals' cores, pushing the transformation buttons. Half a nano later a blinding column of light shot out of the ground in the distance, and a powerful wave of energy swept over them. Six nanos later, a thunder rolled over the pack of unconscious beasts.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Tarantulas's lair all monitors went crazy, and Tarantulas himself almost got a spark attack when he saw what they were showing him.  
No, no, no, no! Not now! He wasn't ready yet!  
His hands were shaking when he frantically scanned the phenomena for any familiar frequencies. He collapsed into his chair in relief when he realized that, against all appearances, it was just a natural disaster. By the Pit, for a moment he was sure it was an alien signal. This planet certainly had some freaky weather anomalies.

&&&&

Megatron had noticed the anomaly as well - one would have to be blind not to notice a discharge that lightened up the whole eastern horizon. Since both Terrorsaur and Waspinator were, unfortunately, out on a long patrol, he ordered Scorponok to dispatch a cyber-bee to investigate.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:: ...Rhinox, are you there? Report. Rhinox, come in. ::  
With a groan, the rhino raised his head. "Sound-off, everyone."  
"Dinobot reports." "Lemme alone." "What?" "Oooh, my head..."  
"We're all still here, Optimus," Rhinox reported tiredly. At the other end of the line there was a huge sigh of relief.  
:: Thank the Primus. What happened out there? We've got some wild energy readings here. ::  
"Yeah, an we got some wild energy waves HERE, fearless leader." Rattrap said, activating his comlink. "So be so nice an call us back in a mega, ok?"  
/chuckle/ I can tell you're fine, Rattrap. ::  
"No I'm not!"  
Rhinox maximized and waved a hand at Rattrap to be quiet. "I think there was an underground combustion of energon deposit," he said. "The compact wave knocked us out for a moment." Something occurred to him, and he went to check his overturned hover. Rattrap obviously followed his train of thoughts, 'cause he did the same.  
"So, fearless leader, ya want a bad news or a bad news?" he asked after a moment.  
:: I think I'll have the first bad news first,:: Optimus's voice decided. :: Shoot. ::  
"Well, ah, our all reserves of energon have apparently evaporated."  
:: Prime. And the second bad news?::  
"Da hovers still hover, but deir jets are busted. We'll hafta drag dem."  
:: Doubly prime. Rhinox, will you be able to make it back, or should I fly you some energon?::  
"Leaving the base unguarded is unadvisable," Dinobot snarled from the side.  
Rhinox nodded. "I agree. Stay were you are, Optimus, we'll manage."  
:: I'll keep your word on it. Till your return, then. Optimus out. ::

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Megatron tapped his fingers on the armrest, looking at the screen thoughtfully. Scorponok had 'stumbled' on the Maximals on his way to the discharge site, and Megatron ordered him to trail them instead. "Give me a spectrographic analysis of the cargo," he said after a moment. The gray bot obliged, and Megatron raised an optic ridge at the list that appeared on the screen. Two of freight floaters carried some kind of machinery, while the other two were loaded with twin amounts of trace metals.  
"It would seem that Maximals had run out of their supplies as well. I believe we should organize a welcome back party for them, yess."

&&&&

"Oh, finally," Rattrap sighed when the alluring shape of Axalon met his eyes. "I swear, my hover is the heaviest."  
"It's exactly same as mine," Cheetor growled. He really didn't intend to be rude, but he was too tired to control his voice.  
"Don't start all over again," Rhinox demanded. "We're back and now we all can rest."  
How wrong he was...

&&&&

Megatron scrutinized the exhausted Maximals from the distance. They were in the Axalon's autodefences range already, and lowered their guard completely. Megatron smiled. "This will be easy, yess."  
He turned to his assembled crew. "Flyers: I want the floaters that the rat and cheetah are dragging. Tarantulas - if you please."  
With an ugly smirk, Tarantulas fired away a big missile with an electric discharger on it.  
"Done and done. Their systems will be shut in a moment, Megatron."  
"Excellent, yess. Predacons - fire at will."

&&&&

"I hate it when dat happens!" Rattrap screamed at the top of his vocalizer, mostly to get the point across the heavy gunfire. A clawed hand grabbed his arm, and when he turned, Dinobot pointed a big boulder nearby. "Cover fire!" the warrior demanded. Rattrap didn't need a translation. "Sure," he said, letting himself be tossed to the top of said boulder, where he flattened himself and provided a cover fire for Dinobot's charge. "Ya go first, I'll cover ya. No problem." And then an inspiration struck. He unsubspaced a handful of magnesium scraps and a small bit of clay-charge. A nano later he had both mixed together, and squashed into a ball. He tossed it high into the air.  
"Shut yer optics, everybody!" he yelled on the Maximals' open frequency, and shot the small ball out of the sky.  
It was so sad that not a single person listened to him, not even Rattrap himself.

&&&&

For a moment Megatron was sure that he was shot. Nothing else would explain the sudden whiteness and the furious pulsing in his optics. It took him a while to realize that he'd been simply flash-blinded. He hastily rebooted his optics, and opened his mouth to shout out orders, but they died in his vocalizer. How on Cybertron that happened he couldn't tell, but most of the Maximals lay on the ground with various injuries, Waspinator was spiraling away into the sky, shouting hysterically that he couldn't see, and Blackarachnia was half lying on one of the floaters, crushed under unconscious Terrorsaur, whose still on-line jets were effectively pushing them toward Predacons base. Megatron closed his mouth.  
"Whatever," he sighed after a moment, beastmoded and walked away, a tip of his tail waving to the sides nonchalantly.

&&&&

"Dat didn't go as planned," Rattrap murmured, rubbing at his optics. Getting blinded by one's own flash-bomb was ridiculous, but he had noticed Airazor flying almost directly over his charge as he fired, and his optics widened in surprise, thanks to which he got it twice as bad as the others. "Dis just ain't my day."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After counting the dead (zero), and picking up the injured (four), the Maximals went on with the usual after-battle business. That is to say, Optimus and Dinobot ended up in CRs, Kittar herded Airazor and Cheetor to the Med-bay for some minor repairs, and Rhinox sat behind Sentinel consol with an exhausted sigh.  
Not knowing what to do with himself, Rattrap hovered around the control room for a moment, glancing at the screens, pushing some buttons and trying not to fall on his face. Finally he settled in front of 'his' computer, and switched it on.

Sitting across the room and watching his friend pretending to play poker, Rhinox couldn't suppress the memory of one cold day on Breglay, where frozen crystals of nitric acid carried with the wind stung like so many cyber-bees, and a low, white building appeared in the gloom like a ghost.

&&&&

It was a fused police/hospital station; the victims of crimes could testify and get medical treatment at the same time. By the looks of it, they were doing it a lot. A hefty, green bot knock on the opened door of an office.

"Hi Skyjet, remember me?"

A police officer turned around and beamed.

"Bigstorm! What are ya doin' 'ere, old-bot?"

"I have a ship change here, I thought I'd come and visit."

"Come in, sit down! In da middle of da flight, huh? An where to?"

"I got work at Vespa System. They need technicians for mining equipment."

"Vespa? Ya lucky devil! But I can't complain myself. I finally got da transfer. One more week and I'll be off dis swamp."

"Hmm, swamp does seem to be a fitting description. I don't get it, what happened here?"

"Ya mean, to da colony?" The green bot nodded.  
"Da war ended. Yea, I know, I know, it's a good thing in general, but, Storm, dis colony was livin' on weapon manufactures. Now dere are only few mines and lots of crimes. An it gets worse everyday. It's practically Preds' underground here. Every Maximal who has an official job begs for transfer to somewhere else. An dose who didn't manage to get a job..." Skyjet reached out and pulled a shade off a glass wall. "See dat kid over dere?"

Bigstorm looked. On the other side of the hall a small robot had curled himself on a chair, arms around knees. He was covered in dents, scratches and mech fluid, but his face was blank, as if he didn't notice damages, and his gaze was fixed on a white door near him.

The green bot frowned. "Why isn't he in CR?"

"Cause we only have two CRs, and dey're only used for life-threatenin' injuries. Dey work almost non-stop."

The police-bot noticed the shocked look on his friend's face and shrugged.

"Gang wars. Dat kid - Speeder - is from da Bombers, only maximal gang dat still exist, and mainly because dey're not really a gang, just a bunch of unemployed young bots from one street. Dey sometimes break into old warehouses, lookin' for anythin' dey could trade for energy, but mostly dey just stick together to survive. Not too successfully. He was brought here 'bout mega ago, along wid 'nother kid. Some Preds ambushed dem. He's waiting now to hear if his friend will make it or not."

Skyjet sighed bitterly.

"It's fifth time he's here. Most likely he'll go away alone... just like every time before."

Bigstorm gasped.

"Nasty business, ain't it? An da worst part is, I know who's killin' dem, it's da same group every time, Shockers, dey claimed 4th Alley their territory. Three decades ago dey were probably playin' swirl-ball together, and now... But da only thing I have on 'em, is Speeder's testimony. No one else care enough even to come an wait under hospital's door, much less ta answer any questions. An if I tried to arrest anyone wit' just one witness's word, his parts would be rustin' on a scrap heap before da shift's over."

He suddenly laughed bitterly and pushed a note-pad towards the other bot. "Look what he wrote me dis time."

Bigstorm picked up a pad and read

-- Me and Hoistlog were **XXXXXX** going to a **XXXXX** dispenser and **XXXXXX XXX XXXXX** Preds shot us from behind, and if ya wanna **XXXX XXXXXX** name's, ya XXXX move yer big **XXXXX XXXXX XXXX **skid**-**plate and read what I said before, cause they were the same **XXXXX** **XXXXXXXX** bastards every time, and ya **XXXXXX** know it and ya never do nothing, so ya can just **XXXXX XXXXX** and **XXXXXXX** for all I care!!! --

He shook his head sadly. "Lots of cross outs"

"Yea, he was upset. Not dat I blame 'im... oh Primus!"

Bigstorm followed his gaze. A bot in medic colors was talking to the small bot, with that universal 'I'm terribly sorry' expression of doctors everywhere. Speeder just looked up at him, then get up and stalked away. The med-bot called something after him, and, because the kid was just passing the office door, they heard his answer clearly.

"(#$$#&) off, I can ($&#$#) well repair myself."

Bigstorm shut his optics. How well he knew that dispassionate tone, that blank look on a young face...

"Skyjet, you should keep him here for tonight"

The police-bot nodded. "I will."

&&&&

Rhinox looked up at Rattrap, still bravely resisting the beckoning recharge mode. Every now and then the rat-bot was glancing at the humming CR-Chamber. Rhinox smiled softly. Every time one of the Maximals was injured and needed CR, Rattrap was hovering near, waiting.

_I wonder if he even realizes he's doing it_.

"Good thing we have a CR, isn't it?"

Rattrap glanced at the machine again.

"Yeah," he murmured. Then he leaned back, putting feet up on the console, and just then Kittar came in, and apparently judged that Rattrap would make a perfect cat-basket. She jumped.

"HEY!!! PUSH OFF!!!"

The cat was shoved brutally to the floor, and did a perfect witch-cat impression - flattened ears, arched back, bottlebrush tail and all.  
Rattrap, optics dangerously narrowed, open his mouth to yell at her - and found out he was too tired. He turned away from the furious hissing and went back to the pretend poker playing.

Kittar stopped hissing, blinking in surprise. She smoothened her fur. She licked her nose. She licked her paw. Then she turned and stalked toward the lift. Without a care in the world and with her tail proudly raised, the cat left the building.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air in the mountains was cool and fresh, the snow blindingly white, and the gray cliffs waited impatiently for someone to scale them. Rust grinned at them, mentally promising to oblige in the near future. But for now he dug up the entrance to the cave he'd found the last time he was here, and pulled the Pod and the floater inside.  
"Honey, I'm home!" he called.

_home, home, ome, ome_... Sang the cave in response.

"Hal_lo_, echo!"

_echo, echo, echo...  
_  
Rust whistled a few notes of the cave-tune.

The cave repeated it faithfully, multiplying it into a melodic background.  
Rust chuckled to himself.  
"I love echo," he confessed, and got to work.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap woke up with a start, only to find everything in perfect order. Rhinox still at Sentinel console, Optimus and Dinobot still in CRs, and Cheetor and Airazor... well, probably asleep in their respective quarters. A quick glance at the CR-chambers controls told him that the repair cycles were almost complete. Good to know. Not that he was worried or anything, of course...

Yawning and working out the stiff cables, Rattrap limped his way toward Rhinox. "Eh, man, ya got any recharge at all? Why didja let me sleep?" he asked, leaning on the green shoulder. Rhinox nodded to the first question, and pointed to the toolbox standing on the holo-table in response to the second one. "We needed someone well-rested to do the repairs," he explained with a small smile.  
"Ah, typical. Who gets to do all da work? Da rat gets to do all da work." The small bot picked up the toolbox and turned. "So what 'ave ya repaired already, and what's left over fer me?"  
"I've got all internal systems on-line, so it's just the autoguns."  
"They'll be done in a jiffy." He gave his friend a mock salute. "Rattrap out."

About two megas later Rattrap closed the paneling, and shook a welder at the autogun. "Ya'd better work dis time, or else!" he said, and commed the Axalon. "How's it now, Big Green?"  
The gun whined to life, and targeted him. Rattrap took a surprised step back, and the barrel followed him.  
:: _/snarl/_ The target lock works in perfect order,:: Dinobot's voice announced. :: Shall I verify its firepower?::  
"Har, har, very funny. Who let ya behind da controls, Lizard Lips?"  
:: He let himself,:: Rhinox's deep rumble sounded, the disapproving frown almost visible in it. Then it changed to an approving smile. :: All defense systems are online. You've sure fixed it fast. ::  
"Just know how ta talk to dem," Rattrap said with a smirk, closing the connection.

Well, the working day's over. Now it's time for the small pleasantries of life. And unless his optics were playing tricks on him, it was a flyer's graceful figure standing in the shadows over there. What a lucky bot he was.

Rattrap sauntered in the direction were the overlaid moon shadows of Axalon and rock spires created a spot of cozy darkness. Sure enough, Airazor stood there, her gaze wandering among the stars. She turned at the sound of his footsteps. Rattrap shot her his most charming smile.

"Allo, Bird Lady."  
"Oh. Rattrap. Hallo."  
She smiled, but not before a surprise and a hint of disappointment flashed through her face. Oh-oh. Not good. She was hoping for someone else's company. The question was: whose.

One way to find out was to ask, of course, but he knew better than that. Despite what some people would think, Rattrap could be quite a diplomat when situation called for it.

"It's a nice night," he said lightly, gesturing toward the starry sky. "Ya were stargazin'?" Airazor looked up and nodded with a thoughtful smile. "Yes, this seems like a perfect spot." She hesitated, and continued in overly casual voice. "I've seen Rhinox here the other day."

Ouch. Rattrap cringed inwardly. She had it for his best friend. Which should in principal be his cue to back off, only there was this little catch...

Unaware of her audience's ambivalent feelings, the femme continued. "He was watching the stars, and... I don't know... he looked so sad..."

Oh, frag, rust and scrap, with few more colorful curses on top.  
"...Don't... ah, don't tell him ya saw dat," Rattrap said very quietly. Airazor turned to look at him, surprised by the words as much as by the serious tone. "Why not?"  
"Well, it's a..." Rattrap looked up at the illuminated sky. Just pretty lights for him, but if you were big and green and felt really gloomy, they resembled the thousands, millions of sparks lost in pointless wars. Rattrap winced.  
"Might be wrong, but I think he was thinkin' 'bout his bond-mate."  
Airazor almost jumped in place, stifling a startled choke.  
Rattrap continued staring in space and pretended he didn't notice. He really shouldn't have said that, but on the other hand, he was sparing both Airazor and Rhinox a lot of embarrassment. And if he could cut something little of the top for himself of it, well, who could blame him?

Airazor moved her lips several times before she found her voice. "Rhinox is bonded?" she said in an admirably 'friendly interested' voice.  
Rattrap did her a curtsey of responding with a friendly casual 'uh-huh,' and gave her time to deal with the fact.  
"I didn't know that." Airazor said after a moment, during which she hastily run through her budding feelings, poking them back into proper shape. Her voice was set at the _true _friendly interest tone when she asked: "With whom?"  
Rattrap shrugged. "Never met da guy. He died in a war, long before we've met. But, ya know, eternal feelings, bonded forever, all dat romantic sss-stuff..."  
"You meant to say 'scrap'," Airazor observed with a half mocking reproach.  
"I would nevah! I'm da romantic to da very spark myself!"  
"Oh really. So maybe you could remind me if it looks similar from the Cybertron?" she gestured upwards. It was only partially a tease. While her memory wasn't near as blotched up as other pod-borns, there were huge gaps she'd like to fill.

Rattrap waved a hand dismissively. "Nah. Da stars don't stand a chance with all da streetlights. Though I can't be real expert, ya know, I only was on da Good Ol' C for a stellar, an mostly on da lower levels." He brightened at the memories. "Am tellin' ya, dere are da best joints in da galaxy down dere. Ya ever need a guide ta fun-Cybertron, just gimme a call."

Airazor couldn't help but smile, and then laugh softly as Rattrap went on with the advertising.  
Rattrap grinned a glad, and maybe even smug grin, as Airazor let him engage herself in the idle chitchat. Apparently the crush-in-development she'd had for the mechanic had been successfully intercepted and terminated in time. Five points for the rat!

"Well," Rattrap said finally, stretching out his arms, "it's been a long day."

It was probably the oldest trick in the universe, used everywhere where one individual was looking for a cheap excuse to touch the other one. But before Rattrap's falling arm could rest on Airazor's waist, his face was suddenly full of dirt.

"I'm back. Missed me?"

The words that escaped Rattrap's vocalizer were pure Breglayish, and judging by Airazor's gasp, whatever points he'd earned so far were now sucked into the vast vacuum of non-existence. Possibly even spat on the other side with an ugly 'minus' before them.

He jumped to his feet and turned, all his diagnostic displaying 'CATCIDE' in red burning letters. He would probably act on it too, had the cat in question not been already whirling around Airazor, looking up at her with the expression that usually means 'where's my food?' in feline. Only in this case it meant:  
"Got my plants?"  
Expression (and feelings) somewhere between bemusement and amusement, Airazor nodded.

&&&&

"...and I have found another vine with a similar properties to the one you've got..."  
Rhinox glanced at the two femmes, as they passed the control room, Airazor reporting her finds and the cat nodding every now and then. He smiled. The lift rose the second time. Rhinox stopped smiling.

Rattrap, mad and muddy, gave him a furious glare, jerked his thumb sharply across his throat, and jabbed a finger at Kittar's retreating posterior.  
_I'm going to kill this cat._

That gestured, the rat-bot stormed away.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tarantulas crept unhurriedly through the forest. His computer had informed him there was a movement detected in one of his webs, and since he couldn't get the visual for some reason, he decided to investigate personally.  
Being the cautious bot by nature, he first circled the area in search for possible traps. He didn't find any, only detecting traces of a certain cat. He chuckled to himself. Maybe he'd caught himself a pet?  
As it turned out, that wasn't the case.  
What he found in his web instead, were the dissected shells of thirty-three cat-proof arachnoids, carefully arranged in a maximal 'K' letter.

The birds and small animals fled in terror, as the alien metal creature screamed in rage.

"DAMN YOU, KITTEN!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of part ten

**A/N**: In case you were wondering:

Scheelite, bertrandite, ilmenite sand, - these are actual, existing minerals, ores for wolfram, beryllium, and titanium. Cobalt and nickel often go together, especially in places where a big meteorite hit. At least, that's what Wikipedia says. (Thank the Primus for Wiki!)

Carbon nano-tubes fabric - probably is being invented as we speak.

Freight hovers, c-ray box, caker, transilt, corodium - technologies still out of our reach ;)

And if there is some nice person with a lot of patience and spare time, for whom English is first language, please let me know - I need help in cleaning up the grammar in this series.

-

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**: 

(1) The ironic part was, Rust called Blackarachnia 'Widow' not even five cycles later.

(2) He might not want to give it back. Give a Predacon the smallest amount of power, and prepare to pry it back with a crowbar.

(3) Kind of a rubber sponge, elastic and strong - IF not overdue, _and_ kept in the stable environment of air-conditioned deep tunnels. And it's an 'at least four miles under' deep I'm talking about.


	11. Missing, presumed dead

**A/N: F**rom this chapter on, I stop using the word 're-energize' for bots' equivalent of eating, and replace it with 'refuel'. I might go back to change it in previous chapters - as soon as I find a beta-reader who doesn't run away from me screaming.  
'Sleeping' is still 'recharging', btw.

-

-

part eleven  
**Missing, presumed dead.  
**  
_A few days in life of our favorite bots,  
__in which serious matters intertwine with matters not so serious,  
__and sometimes downright silly._

-

-

-

Imagine a range of mountains. They're high enough to have all the life zones a model mountain should have - from the warm, sunny jungle at the base, to the jagged, snow-covered peaks, with a wide strip of spruce forest in the middle.  
Look at that forest. There are thickets and clearings in there.  
And on one particular clearing, there is a snowdrift. It was probably blown in over roots of a windfallen tree or something, because there are some darker smudges breaking its whiteness. And when the gust of wind blows over it, it waves lightly in a way snow shouldn't. And if you'd tilt your head and squint, you'd realize it's not a snowdrift at all, but a pair of sleeping tigers, huddled together.  
You'd be wrong.  
They weren't sleeping.

Tigatron was reading, and his tiger friend was resting, enjoying the warmth and company he provided. At some point Tigatron had been wondering at Snowstalker's friendly disposition, since Axalon's database said most cats were loners by nature. But then they met - well, were chased away by, actually - a group of three other tigers. Apparently, snow tigers were pack animals. The she-tiger must have been an outcast for whatever reason when they met.

Sighing softly, Tigatron closed the book-file he'd been skimming through. Reading of his own kind felt like studying an alien life form in its habitat - interesting, but hard to identify with. And that was precisely what he _should_ do, wasn't it. He couldn't deny being a transformer, even if he didn't like it. He couldn't pretend to be a real tiger, even if he'd like to. Lost between what he was, should be and wanted to be, he could only sigh and push it away to deal with later.

At his side, Snowstalker stretched and got to her feet. She smelled of hunger, and when she nibbled his neck, he knew it wan an invitation for a hunt.  
"Go ahead, Snowstalker. I can't."  
The snow tiger nudged her companion few more times, before giving up and going away on her own. In a vague way, the animal knew that her blood sister was different from the other tigers; she was making strange sounds, had a set of strange smells on her, and rarely hunted. But she also smelled of the tiger's lost pride, and the pride meant bigger territory, more food, and security. So she accepted the creature that carried her own scent as one of her own, even if it _was_ strange.

Tigatron looked after Snowstalker, feeling a pang of guilt, but he'd few times unwillingly helped her in her hunt, and what he felt afterwards was by far worse. He'd only recently worked around this problem, though 'worked around' wasn't exactly a right phrase for it...

A lump of snow landed on Tigatron's head, startling him. He looked around, eyeing the snow-covered spruces below and uphill. Since he was lying in the middle of a clearing, none of the trees was close enough to drop a load of coldness on him, so how...

_Flop, flop_, two more lumps of snow spattered on his back. Tigatron jumped to his feet with an annoyed growl, shaking it off his fur. A stifled snicker came from among the uphill trees, and Tigatron relaxed, smiling at the kid's antics. "What are you doing out here, Cheetor?" he called, taking few steps in the direction the snow came from. The laugh was loud and clear this time - familiar, but definitely not Cheetor's.  
"Do I look yellow to you?" a young voice called back.  
Tigatron snarled and maximized immediately, aiming a freeze-gun at the forest. Another snowball landed squarely in his face.  
"You can't shoot me, Maximal! That would be using an excessive force!"

_Flop, flop_. Tigatron dodged the first projectile, the second got him in the shoulder.  
"Excessive force?" he said incredulously, sidling to the edge of the forest, his optics searching for the enemy amid the greenish shadows.  
"Well, I'm just throwing snow at you. Hardly a harm in that."

Rust threw another snowball, suppressing the laughter at the Maximal's expression. This was fun! He beastmoded and dashed to another position, as Tigatron advanced on him.

The spot where he expected to find the Predacon was empty, save for a patch of trampled snow. Tigatron narrowed his optics, and activated the tracker. Rust's energy signature was weak, but distinguishable, and he followed it, looking around warily for any signs of other Predacons. There didn't seem to be any, but that's the point of a good trap, isn't it.  
"What do you want, Rust?" he called out.

A burst of laughter came from among a group of young spruces, along with another snowball. "To be rich ad famous and to live forever," Rust called out merrily. "And you?"

He dashed away when Tigatron zeroed in on his voice, and tried to creep up on the Maximal from the side. It wasn't working as well as he expected. After few failed attempts Rust fall to the ground to think. OK, so wind was to his advantage, and so were his colors, so Tigatron had to have one shock of a good tracker. Rust prided himself for a masterful control over his energy fields, but he couldn't dump them any more. Well, if you can't hide from it, try blinding it. The wolf flared up his fields to the max, making sure they'd leave a strong signature, and dumped them again.

Tigatron sneaked up to a tree, the rarely used stealth mode making him completely inaudible. Rust had stopped few cycles ago, and was lying just around that spruce, waiting for who knows what. With a roar, Tigatron jumped around the tree, aiming at... another patch of trampled snow?

...And with a roar of his own, Rust shot out of the spruce just three meters away, the snow cascading around him. Tigatron jerked back, tripped and landed on his skidplate in the snow.  
Snarling, he quickly jumped back to his feet, looking around for his gun, and finding it right away.

The wolf was standing just about ten meters away, laughing at him. He was wagging his tail like crazy, looking about as dangerous as an overgrown puppy. He shook his head, rattling Tigatron's gun in his teeth.

Tigatron growled. "Give that back you...!" He made a move to retrieve his possession, and Rust jumped back. And just stood where he landed, bouncing on his feet, laughing, wagging his tail, and generally making an idiot of himself.

Not just a little confused, Tigatron made another attempt to take back his weapon, and Rust jumped back, dancing just out of his reach, snickering. Then he tossed the gun into the air, caught it again, and bolted. Without a second thought, Tigatron beastmoded and followed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rattrap stomped through Axalon's corridors, optics gleaming with a glom determination. He was hungry. He hadn't refueled since after returning from the mining campaign. Reason? After having a feast of a decent sec-grade, he discovered just how much sick he was of feeders. And he was even sicker of having to sit on his skid-plate in the MedBay under the scrutiny of her shortness every time he got low on energy.

That was it, enough was enough, and he was not going to suffer it any longer. He was armed and dangerous, and he was going to get a feeder of his own, all cats of the Universe be damned.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air in the mountains is thin, the snow thick, and running exhausting. So after about half a mega of a wild chase, which took them way above the forest line, both bots decided to take a little break.

Tigatron eyed Rust warily. The wolf was sprawled in the snow a stone's throw away, and was apparently admiring the view without a care in the world. The freeze-gun, by now sporting few dents and lots of scratches, lay by his side. Deciding that demanding to have it back would be rather pointless, the tiger laid down to rest as well.

His sides only just stopped heaving, when he noticed that Rust was staring intently somewhere above. He quickly scanned the steep white slope, to no effect. But Rust apparently saw something in the landscape, for a devilish grin wormed its way onto his snout. Tigatron didn't like that grin at all.

The wolf looked at him, his eyes glinting, and send over an open frequency: "Hey, tiger, ever raced an avalanche?"

The Maximal had enough time to realize what he meant, and even yell at the Predacon not to, before Rust drew a breath and whistled.  
The piercing sound left tiger's ears ringing, so he didn't hear the deep rumble the mountain uttered in protest against breaking its peaceful slumber. He did hear the sharp crackles, though, and looked up in wonder.

Deceptively slowly, the mass of whiteness moved, detaching form the rocks, first in large, smooth slices, then braking into a whirl of solid dust.

The tiger instinctively crouched into himself, his ears dropping, as he watched the snow crawling toward him. He felt the cold wind blowing in his face, and then the earth started shaking under his paws.

"RUN!" Rust yelled at the top of his lungs, passing by him in a gray blur, his voice barely audible in the overwhelming rumble. And run Tigatron did, escaping a roaring furiously white monster on his heels. He ran, he jumped, he slid, and for the breathtaking forty nanos he even rolled in his personal cloud of white dust.

And all the while the predacon wolf ran, jumped and slid alongside him, whooping and hooting in joy. Apparently, he was having a good time.

They were nearing the line of forest, when the avalanche caught up to them. Tigatron more felt it than saw it, and he desperately jumped as high as he could, trying to avoid the frozen waves. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rust jumping as well. But the Predacon transformed in mid-jump, and spread out his hands, letting the white wall hit him in the back and drag him under.  
Some bots just don't have the sense of self-preservation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The duel had reached the no-turning-back point. The tension almost crackled in the air. The audience gathered in front of the screen held their breath.  
"He is a dead mech," Cheetor whispered, unable to tear his optics away from the scene. Dinobot gave the image a casual glance, and made a small sound of agreement. Rhinox shook his head.

"What's going on?" Optimus walked in, and immediately noticed that whether they showed it or not, everyone's attention was on one of Sentinel's vid-screen. He came closer to take a look.  
"Oh for the love of Primus," he said in resigned tones. "What is it about this time?"  
Cheetor shook his head. "Donno, BigBot, but they hadn't twitched for a quarter now."  
Optimus rolled his optics, joining them in watching the show.

&&&&

Rattrap narrowed his optics, trying to ignore the fact that his raised hand was starting to feel faint. He'd been lucky to find the MedBay empty. It allowed him to snatch the feeder and made it as far as to the door when Kittar appeared. She saw the piece of equipment in his hand right away. She demanded it back, he bluntly refused, the cat bristled, and he jerked a certain item out of sub-pocket and raised it threateningly.  
Which brought them to the current situation, dozen or so cycles later.

All was still and quiet, only their gazes clashed with a force of optic lasers. And then, just when Rattrap started to think they would stay like this forever, Kittar licked her nose.

After a moment she did that again, she let her gaze wander to the side, and then she turned and walked away, smoothing her fur as she went.

For a nano Rattrap just looked after her, not really comprehending what happened, and then he punched the air triumphantly. The better one had won!

Grinning like a madbot, he set off in opposite direction, cheerfully tossing a victorious water-balloon up and down.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm getting rather good at this," Rust informed the world, crawling out of the tight tunnel to the surface.  
"You!"  
The surface, where Tigatron was already waiting for him. The white fist crashed right in the middle of Predacon's grin, sending him tumbling head over heels.  
"Look around! Look at all the damage you caused!"

All around them pieces of broken and crushed trees where stuck in the snow at odd angles. Rust, who had come into a very close contact with few of them along the ride, didn't feel too sympathetic.  
"All that snow had to go down sooner or later, you know," he said, rubbing his jaw. It felt like one of the hinges was dislocated. "At least it was fun this way."  
"You have no right to destroy for your own amusement!" With as much dismay as anger, Tigatron took another swing at him.

Nano-kliks later, Rust had his knee in Maximal's back, pushing him into the snow, simultaneously keeping his arm wrenched to the point of near dislocating. Ten stellars of daily wrestling with hyperactive peers can teach you tricks like that.  
"And the moral is," he said, tugging at the arm lightly to get attention, "when you see a Predacon, shoot him on sight." He released Tigatron's wrist, and patted him friendly on the shoulder. "See ya."  
By the time Tigatron jerked himself up and removed the snow from his optics, Rust was just a set of wolf's tracks, disappearing in the distance.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't easy to find a place on the Predacon's ship where one could do something illegal without getting caught. Working in your quarters would be asking for trouble from the neighbors, and making frequent trips to unmonitored parts of the ship would be easily spotted. Blackarachnia had walked around the problem by spending most of her off time crawling through the ventilation shafts. It had taken her almost a week, but she finally found and furnished a miniature lab. It was in not only unmonitored, but completely cut off corridor on the lowest level. There was only one entrance - a hole in the shaft, just ten cycles of crawling away from the ventilation grate in her room. A little piece of Universe of her own.

Blackarachnia smiled nastily at the set of vials in front of her. There were samples of her own cyber-venom, as well as some of Tarantulas's, plus few samples she obtained from an interesting amphibians, plus the set of snakes' venom she'd won off Tarantulas some time ago. She was not a chemist, perhaps, but she but she knew what she had, and what she wanted to make out of it. A failure was not an option.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rust whistled happily, packing the refiner back on the sledge. It's been a busy week. He'd scaled three unfriendly precipices, as well as two frozen waterfalls. He'd fallen off the cliff once, and discovered the perils of glacier-walking. He'd hunted few hares and squirrels, and antagonized one maxi tiger.

Oh, and he filled the cave with condensed energon cubes. That was kinda important too.

He made a last round, checking the readings on the environmental-control-thingies Scorponok had provided. They were plugged to the very energon cubes they were set to keep safe, but with the already stable cave's environment, the drain was going to be minimal.  
Rust nodded to himself happily, whistled one last crystal tune for goodbye, and left, burying the entrance with a small snow slide.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been two solars since the victory-by-water-balloon-threat, and nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. No cats sleeping in places he was likely to trip over them, no dead rodents under his door, no sudden meetings with the floor, no unexpected summons for a medical, no nothing.

It was getting unnerving.

But Rattrap would never admit it, and kept going around putting up a facade of a triumphant conqueror. But in his pride he went to far, and made a mistake.

He started to gloat that he had brilliantly and ultimately won this private little war - and he chose to do that in front of Dinobot.

The raptor, with a long-suffering look, informed him that he shouldn't be so pathetically overconfident, and that cats were patient creatures.

And when Rattrap left, all triumph and self-importance, the corners of raptors mouth ventured slightly northwards, creating a little smirk. Someone needed to be taken down a notch...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The base was still standing. It was occurrence usual enough that Rust had to comment.

"Wow, that's the first time I come back after a long absence and the base ain't all blown up. Good work, Wasp!"

Waspinator's wings fluttered briefly at the voice behind him, and he spun around. "Rust back!" Then his wings dropped a notch. "Rust had troubles?"

Rust gave him his best 'who, me?' look, then looked down at his dented, colorless self. "Oh, just been fighting elements. Nothing CR can't fix," he said, waving the issue aside. "Is his purpleness home?"  
Waspinator giggled, and pointed toward the command center.  
"Right. Dumb question." Everyone knew that Megatron was only leaving the base when he wanted to bash some Maximals.  
"Be a good roomy and drag the Pod to Sarge, will you? the upper left side jet is coughing."  
Leaving his vehicle for Waspinator to worry about, Rust went to report the successful mission.

&&&&

Megatron raised optic ridges at the numbers on a datapad Rust handed him. "Your first report of the location said of far smaller resources in the area," he said, looking at the young bot with just a hint of distrust.  
Rust nodded carelessly. "I know, sir, but halfway through the deposit the crystals got higher-powered, and when I dug it clean it turned out there was another vein underneath."

Megatron gave him a look. "How deep was it placed?"  
Rust tilted his head, remembering the size of the tunnel he created and measuring it hastily. "About 80 feet at the deepest spot, I guess. Why?"  
Megatron kept staring. "Did you employ any safety measures?"

"...Safety measures?" Rust said in tones that implied the unspoken 'what language is that?'

Megatron let it go. The youngster had fulfilled his task, so why should he care if he put himself in a risk of being blown up or buried alive?  
"Never mind that. Did you encounter any disturbances while on your task?" he asked, eyeing Rust's battered frame.  
"Not really, sir. Well, I bumped into Tigatron in the mountains, but he couldn't know why I was there."  
Megatron narrowed his optics. "I do hope you got rid of the Maximal, yess."

Rust looked embarrassed. "No, sir. I went into chase, but then there was this avalanche, and the last time I saw him, he was on the other side of it. And it was about time to check on the refiner, so I went back to the cave. But I made sure to cover the tracks, so he wouldn't be able to find the storage."

Rust very rarely bothered to lie. Saying nothing but the truth was so much more challenging, after all.  
Megatron stroked his dino-hand thoughtfully. He'd prefer to have the Maximal dealt with already, but with the information of his whereabouts, he could easily fix that little oversight. Overall, Rust had done a good job, and deserved a reward.

"Very well, Mr. Rust. I shall inform Scorponok to change your duty roster back to the standard working hours. However," and here he leaned forward menacingly, "You are to spend you free time either in your quarters, or outside the base. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear, sir," Rust confirmed with a salute, beaming. Crystal clear and perfectly fine with him. Why would he want to sit on his skid-plate in the boring shipwreck, when he had a whole world to explore?

Megatron nodded and waved him away. "Dismissed."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* * *

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

A mass of leaves rustled, as someone made their way through the treetops. Judging by the muttered curses, describing in detail rather improbable lineages of certain group of bots, that someone was in a bad mood.

Blackarachnia had had a very tiresome few days. Not only the venoms she worked on proved to be more difficult than she expected, no. She also was stuck in a base full of infuriating males and their comments.

You're smiling. What are you up to?  
You have the lines to kill for. /drool/  
You smell funny. Been messing around the lab again?  
Why spider-botte looking at us that way?  
You are required on patrol, I believe.  
Check the Q-gamma sector. Maximals started showing up there.

Q-gamma sector! Nothing but a wet, hot jungle thick like a thorn-brush! The scrapped stupid Maximals and the fragged, dumb, vengeful scorpion!

Seething, the femme terrorized and sat astride a branch. She was going to show them all it didn't pay off to tick the widow! She unsubspaced a dart and looked at it against the light.

If she killed Megatron, the Predacons would fall apart, and she could easily maneuver herself to the position of power. Or, shock, just to a position where she wouldn't have to endure their idiocy.

But she would only get one chance, she knew. Her standard cyber-venom wouldn't do. Oh, it was lethal eventually, but its effects were evident from the start - plenty of time for the tyrant to be dragged to the CR by his oh-so-loyal lackeys.

She needed the poison to be inconspicuous, giving the victim no warning until their all systems suddenly shut down. Hopefully, she was holding such thing in her hands. All she needed now was a test subject. Maybe she could try with a large mammal? The poison was designed to work mostly on the beast mode, after all.  
Lost in thoughts, Blackarachnia never noticed a pair of bots strolling below. When one of them spoke up suddenly, Blackarachnia yelped and jumped in surprise, loosing her balance completely.

&&&&

With her field dumpers set on max, Airazor walked through the jungle in robot mode, beside beast-mode Rhinox. Technically, they were on patrol. Practically, they strayed from the usual rout so that she could show Rhinox something that was most probably a carnivorous plant. She was fascinated with the delicate structure of the trap-pots, and wanted to share it with someone who would appreciate it. She stopped under a tree she'd left a marker on, and started to say something on the lines 'it's very close now,'. She never finished the sentence, though, because a sudden, startled yelp sounded up above them.

It was swiftly followed by /_thump, thump, thump_/ of someone encountering a number of branches on their way down, accompanied by a frightened screech. Then there was a crack of a breaking branch, and lo: out of the blue sky, Blackarachnia fell on top of Rhinox. She slid off him immediately, landing on her behind in a pile of rotten leaves. She looked up, showing them a shocked and frightened face, angrily punched the nearest part of Rhinox, which happened to be his belly, and scrammed.

All of this took about three nano-kliks to happen. The pair of Maximals was left blinking at the bushes Blackarachnia disappeared in.  
After a short, shock induced silence, Airazor laughed. "Looks like we've interrupted someone's beauty nap."  
Amused, Rhinox agreed with her. The Predacon was so startled, that it was obvious this encounter was a weird coincident.  
They went on, soon forgetting about the event.

Which, to be honest, wasn't very smart of them. If they were paying attention, they might notice a small alien object attached to rhino's belly.

Because, when you are quick witted, an accident can serve your purposes better than best of plans. Hidden in a dark hollow, Blackarachnia laughed quietly.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A pair of flyers left the Predacon's base, and almost immediately started arguing who was going to be in charge. That is to say, Terrorsaur said Waspinator was to listen to him, and the wasp whined that he wasn't going to.

Megatron growled his annoyance, and cut the audio feedback off.

The orders he gave them were as simple as possible. Fly to _these_ coordinates, search the area in _this_ radius, find _this_ Maximal, and _kill him_.  
And don't get yourself scrapped AGAIN, for crying out loud. The last part, of course, hadn't been spoken out loud, but heavily implied.

He could only hope the pair of morons would pull it off.

There were two reasons why he wanted Tigatron out of the picture. One, he happened to be wandering in the vicinity of their first energon storage, and Megatron wouldn't risk Maximals discovering it.

Two, the tiger was a one more unpredictable factor to worry about while devising any plan of attack. He spent most of the time away from the rest of bots, but had an irritating habit of popping up when Megatron least expected him. Removing him would make Megatron's life a little bit easier.

IF the flyers could pull it off.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was almost a mega-cycle after their brush with Blackarachnia, when Rhinox realized something was wrong. It crept up on him slowly and quietly like an assassin. One cycle he was patrolling like any other day, the next he realized he was shaking with exhaustion, and when he tried running self diagnostics, all his internal systems went out on him.

This was not good. Choosing his words carefully, he managed to inform Airazor of his state without scaring her too much. After a brief discussion the femme flew to the Axalon to fetch Kittar. Rhinox watched her go, leaning against a three. He lied down and tried to engage the recharge mode. It was always the best thing to do when you had to wait for a medic to take care of you.

After few cycles he gave up. He usually didn't have problems with off-lining, but today something was nagging at his processor, making him nervous with no apparent reason...

The rhino tensed suddenly. There was a quiet rustle somewhere to the side. He jerked his head, trying to pinpoint the direction of the disturbance, and with a sinking feeling he realized there was more than one.

He heaved himself to his feet, looking around frantically, and shuddered as he realized that the whole area grew darker. The shadows were deeper, hiding something from his searching eyes. The very trees seemed to be crowding around him. The rustling in rotten leaves sounded again, much clearer this time, coming from all around him. Rhinox turned this way and that, feeling his spark pulsing madly within his chest.  
There was something, something in the jungle...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you'd tell any Predacon, at any given moment, that Rust was lazing about, they'd probably call you as crazy as he was.

But at this given moment, lazing about was precisely what Rust was doing. He was lying on his back, admiring the blue sky, smelling the wind and basking in the sun. His limbs hang limply, and he dimmed his optics dreamily, enjoying the slight rocking motion.

People could argue about it all they wanted, but Rust wouldn't care. A thin tree branch two hundred feet above the ground _was_ a perfect place to take a nap.

His 'bed' rocked harder, and Rust smiled to himself. He'd been delighted to find out that his new schedule still included ODWOP time.

Either Sarge liked him (ha, ha, ha), or he'd figured out that a wolf set loose was trice as likely to cause the Maximals trouble as a wolf on a leash.

Either way, Rust had plenty of time of his very own. He liked that. He liked that very much.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a swish of wings Airazor decreased her speed to almost null in less than three nanos. An irritated puff below told her that her passenger didn't appreciate the sudden braking.

"It's here," the hawk explained. "Don't move now, landing with you in this thicket will be tricky."  
As if in spite her, the cat wriggled. "Drop me," she ordered. Airazor hesitated for a nano, but then decided that Kittar probably knew what she was doing.

And indeed she did. She landed on a thick branch gracefully, and in three descending jumps she was on the ground. Airazor maximized and followed. "This way," she said, heading toward remembered coordinates. "Just over he--" her voice caught as she pushed pass some bushes onto a miniature clearing. It looked just the way she left it, with only one significant difference.

Rhinox was gone.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A radio message from Optimus caught Rattrap in the middle of a heated insult exchange.  
"..,ya Decepticon wannabe. Whatcha want, pop Op?"  
Ignoring the first sentence, which he knew wasn't directed at him anyway, Optimus quickly informed the duo about their newest problem.

"... I've ordered Airazor to inform you directly of any fresh news, and Cheetor's searching the Electra sector. You two head for the jungle and try to track him."  
:: Will do, Fearless Leader. We'll find him. An any Pred out dere should better keep away. ::

There was steel in the small bot's voice, and Optimus truly pitied anyone that would get in his way right now. One thing was sure - Rhinox would be found.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Airazor circled around the familiar patch of jungle.  
"Rhinox! Where are you?" she called out pleadingly. "I don't understand, we've agreed that he'd wait right here!"  
"But he's not here." Kittar finished turning around and lowered the LSD. "Not within three miles radius."  
Airazor landed maximizing, and looked at the smaller femme with worried optics. "He said he was feeling exhausted, he knew we'd be looking for him here, why would he go away?"  
Kittar rubbed her face with the back of her hand, looked around, and beastmoded.

Airazor watched in surprise as Kittar the cat started walking in an outward spiral, sniffing at anything that could be sniffed at, including the air.  
"Will you stop playing around? He might be in trouble!"  
The cat just hissed at her and went on with her activities. Airazor had to repress the urge to strangle the unsocial teammate. She was almost ready to take off and search for Rhinox on her own, when Kittar walked up to her.

The air was thick with humidity, and she could easily tell from the lingering smells that Rhinox had been here, and that he was tired. On a three he must have been resting against resided a faint, sour odor that spelled poison in letters a mile high. And at some point he got scared, enough to take off running. But she checked the immediate area, and there was nothing to be scared of. She drew the obvious conclusions and generously shared them with her companion.

"He'd been poisoned and is probably delusional. He went that way. Let's go."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The irrational fear left Rhinox soon after he left the jungle, as if it had been taken away by the warm wind, or burnt out by the sun.  
_Hallucinogens_, he thought tiredly. _I can't believe I fell for that_.

But the delusions weren't the only problem, he knew. Whatever had messed with his CPU, was also wrecking havoc in his whole frame. He needed to get as close to the base - and as far from the Predacons' ground - as he could.  
He turned toward the noon sun, and put one leg in front of the other, again, and again, and again. Concentrating on the steps, the rhino pressed on, trying to ignore the fact that his whole body started to twinge with a dull pain, which seemed to increase with every passing cycle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was just one of these days. The ones when the whole Universe seems to be out to get you.  
Blackarachnia had run out of fresh curses and started the litany all over again _- that_ bad it was. She didn't have memories of Cybertron on any other civilized places, but she was sure to the core that there was something wrong with a planet where even a freaking _ground_ was trying to eat you. Not to mention mad rhinos stampeding over you when by all rights they should be lying in a helpless, dying heap.

On the bright side, Rhinox didn't look lucid when he trampled her, and left behind an easily navigated trail of broken bushes.

On the dark side, that trail ended at the edge of the jungle. And since it was zigzagging among the trees, it was a fair bet it wouldn't suddenly turn straight just to make her life easier.

Blackarachnia angrily kicked the last lump of sticky clay off her feet, beastmoded, and went out in the plains, guided by nothing more but a vague hunch.

Well, sometimes it does work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He should have gone with the first course of action, and simply wait for assistance, Rhinox admitted to himself, collapsing heavily on his side.

At least he'd have some energy left to deal with any surprises that might pop up.  
As it was, he was reduced to waiting, knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to stand up under his own power.

Giving up, Rhinox let out a long sigh. He had a lot of practice in lying around, wondering who would find him first. Neither overexerting himself nor fretting would help. He closed his eyes and waited.

Sun.  
Distant cawing of some birds.  
Pain dulling all his senses.  
Rustling of dry grass.  
Footsteps.

Rhino's ears pricked, and he rolled his head, trying to see who--

"Did you know that whenever something is dying out on the plains, these bald birds start circling above it?"  
Rhinox head slumped to the earlier position. Slag.  
"Why would I want to know?" he asked, just for something to say.  
"Well, you're an explorer, and this is an interesting and useful piece of information."  
"...useful...?"  
"That's how I've found you, so pretty useful, yea." The footstep neared. Their creator would have been in Rhinox's line of vision now, if Rhinox felt inclined to open his eyes. He wasn't. There was something wrong with this planet. Barely nine months, and this was, what, the third time he was helpless and at a Predacon's nonexistent mercy? Three times a charm, as they say...

"You look like scrap," Rust observed. "What happened, Axalon fell on you?"  
"Just do what you must, Predacon," Rhinox growled, anger giving him the strength to raise his head and glare at the blue bot. Why did they always have to _talk_ so much?

"Pft! I'm off duty. I don't _have to_ do anything." Rust tilted his head, looking Rhinox up and down thoughtfully. Then he stepped closer, producing a knife out of sub-pocket, and Rhinox jerked at the sudden, sharp pain in his belly.  
"Well," Rust commented, taking few steps back and putting the knife away. "That's new." He inspected a barbed dart in his hand, sniffed at it, then flicked it to the ground. He resumed the wolf form, all the better to sniff at the dart with.

"Definitely something new," he said after a moment. "That widow is unbearable. I think I'll have to kill her one of these days." With that, he transformed again, and tapped a comlink button.  
"Rust to Blackarachnia. ... Yo, Black! ... Answer me, widow!" After a moment's silence, Rust scowled, and started pushing the button over and over. "Hey, Black, black, blackblackblackblack!"

Rhinox felt almost sorry for Blackarachnia. If her comlink was working, this must have been extremely annoying.

:: STOP THAT!:: the femme's screech filled the air. Yep, it was annoying all right. :: What do you want?::

"Black, my _dear_, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Megatron forbid you to mess with any new poisons? Because, you know, I've just found Rhinox's trail on the plains, and one of your darts in the middle of it, and, funny that, it doesn't smell _anything_ like your standard cyber-venom."  
Blackarachnia's voice immediately went all sweet and friendly, as she uttered a string of excuses. Rust let his head drop backwards, and he watched the vultures while he listened to her tirade, his face showing clearly that he didn't believe a single word of it.

Rhinox observed him from under half closed lids. As Megatron once said, sometimes, Predacons gloat too much. They also tend to get overconfident when having an upper hand. Rust was a perfect example. He acted as if he had all the time in the world to do away with him, and that was his chance. Let the Predacons bicker with one another - in the meantime, the help might arrive.

"Yeah, yeah, drop the act, widow," Rust said eventually, obviously bored. "You have till tomorrow to think how to convince me not to report this. Now I want to know, what is this stuff, and how does it work."  
:: That's what I wanted to find out!:: There was an evident frustration in Blackarachnia's voice. :: Is Rhinox somewhere near there? Can you see him?::  
Rust was still contemplating the vultures, so it was a perfect truth, when he said, "Naaah, can't say I can."  
Blackarachnia said something un-lady-like. :: He couldn't have gone far! I need that rhino!::  
Rust burst out laughing. "Sheesh, Black, had I know you were so desperate, I wouldn't have refuse you!"

Rhinox sighed his annoyance at the tasteless joke, while a string of profanities poured out of Rust's comlink. Still snickering, the Predacon shut the connection, cutting it off. "Widows," he said, grinning.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A huge black widow spider, better known as Blackarachnia, finished the last complicated curse, terrorized, and kicked an innocent rock for good measure. Her next test subject would be canine if she had anything to say about it.  
But first she needed to at least_ try_ to find Rhinox, and check how exactly her concoction worked on him. Rust said he'd found the Maximal's trail on the plains, so it must have been crossing his patrol route. Blackarachnia took some pains to figure out where the wolf would most probably be at this point of time, and set off in that direction.

To give her credit, she calculated everything just fine - she simply didn't know about wolf's extra off hours, therefore she aimed a bit too far north, putting herself almost directly on path of a certain unhappy couple.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rust shut down his comlink, shutting the femme's voice off.

"Widows," he said, grinning. And then in a flash he sat in front of Rhinox, staring at his face intently. "You're bonded, aren't you?"

The question was so unexpected, that for a moment Rhinox could just gape at the eager, silver-blue face. Rust felt obliged to explain. "Only bonders scowl like that when someone mentions free merging. I bet you're bonded."  
_I __**know**__ you are. _

Rhinox just glared at the insolent whelp. It was not a question he would answer. But Rust wouldn't leave him alone.  
"So where's your mate?" he asked, laying down, with his chin propped up on his fists.  
Rhinox just closed his eyes.

"You know, I'm not going to disappear when you do that, OR quit, so you may as well just answer the question, it's not even a hard question to answer and I really--"  
"He's dead," Rhinox growled, just to shut him up. It was an opening for a variation of 'so you're going to see him again pretty soon', and Rhinox thought dimly that maybe he'd get mad enough to get up and trample the bot if he said so. But he was surprised again.

"Can you still feel him?"  
"What?" Rhinox opened his eyes, and jerked his head back, because Rust was right in his face, blue optics shining like fog lights.

"Bonders are linked, right? They feel each other, thoughts, emotions... correct?"  
Rhinox blinked, and apparently the Predacon took it as yes.  
"So now that he's dead - can you still feel him?"

He could. Of course he could. In every waking cycle he felt his presence, the gentlest touch on his consciousness. Through the good and bad times, it was always there, whispering warmly that they were going to pull through it just fine. There were few times in his past when that ghost presence was all that kept him going.  
And sure as the Pit he was not going to share this with that brat of a bot.  
"Leave me alone, Predacon."  
"Don't go all racist on me, it's just a simple question!"

Rhinox just closed his eyes in answer. It would be really good moment for Optimus to swoop down and blast Rust away. Or for Rattrap to shoot his head off. Or for all the poison to evaporate from his body, so he could personally beat some sense into that thick helmet. And if anything else failed, even Dinobot would be welcomed to make a Pred shish kebab.

Rust sat up on his heels, glaring at the stubborn old fossil. Why the frag wouldn't he just tell him?  
"Hey, you," he said, unsubspacing a dark, field syringe. "See this? It's an antidote."  
He, Megatron and Scorponok were carrying these around ever since Scorponok's unfortunate 'accident'. Rust waved the thing invitingly in front of Maximal's nose. "It was made for her standard venom, so I'm not sure it will work for you," he admitted, "but it's better than nothing." He put the syringe few inches from Rhinox's head. "I'll give it to you if you answer my question."  
Rhinox pinned him with a glare.  
"Go. To. The Pit."  
"FINE!" Kicking at the dirt angrily, Rust plopped down on his back and stared at the sky.

After a few cycles passed with no interruption, Rhinox opened an eye again. "What are you doing?"  
"Bird spotting."

It was the sulkiest growl Rhinox ever had a chance to hear. Then Rust turned his head slightly, giving the dying Maximal a dark look. "There are nineteen of them now. A flock this size can clean a dead buffalo to the bones in few megacycles. And they rarely wait for the prey to actually die."

How comforting. Rhinox decided to ignore the Predacon and concentrate on the aches in his circuits instead.

Few more cycles passed. The silence was suddenly broken by few 'bzzzt' sounds, followed by an outraged squawking and flopping of big wings. Rhinox opened his eyes just in time to see a vulture retreating back to the skies, feathers cascading from its scorched tail.

Rust was lying with his hands under his helmet and dimmed optics, pretending he didn't have anything to do with that. Rhinox was about to ask him what exactly was he playing at, when the Predacon suddenly sat up, twisting to stare somewhere in the distance. Then with an unflattering comment to someone's lineage, he beastmoded and sprinted toward whatever had alerted him.

Rhinox moved his ear, trying to tune to the distant sounds. It could have been his imagination, but it sounded like gunfire. The thought that perhaps he'd been used as a bait to lead others into a trap almost helped him to get back on his feet. His front feet, at least. He struggled to get his heavy bulk all the way up, when something caught his eye. A dark syringe Rust had shown him earlier lay forgotten on the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The situation was bad and getting worse fast. Blackarachnia shrieked in pain, clutching at her upper arm. In just one shot, Dinobot had taken care of half of her spider legs, effectively erasing any chances of her escaping in beast mode. And since one of Rattrap's first shots had clipped her ankle, she was stuck. She couldn't run - just crawl, or limp at best. And the moment she left the questionable safety of her current position, she'd be a dead Pred.  
She cursed herself three times over already for not paying attention. She didn't expect the other Maximals to be so near, their patrol routs didn't normally overlap...

Something gleamed in the sun. Dark optics widening in horror, Blackarachnia watched a small box searing through the air, and landing few feet from her.  
She jumped to her feet, felt the joints in her left leg giving in, and was halfway back to the ground, when Rattrap's explosive went off.

She must have blacked-out for a nano, for she didn't remember landing, or seeing Dinobot approach her. But she could see, and very clearly at that, the absolutely still sword tip above her, and the blurred blade behind it. Somewhere in the background was an ugly scowl on the navy blue face, implying that Dinobot didn't think her worth dirtying his weapon for.

Blackarachnia mentally promised the oversized oaf a long and painful death, and then the air shook in another explosion.

&

There were no sounds, and the vision was swimming at the edges. Blackarachnia raised her head weakly, searching for the Maximals, but most of her field of vision was obscured by something big. Big and metallic. A bot crouched down with his back to her, with one leg stretched out to the side, blaster and knife ready in his hands. She could say he was saying something, for the visible part of his jaw was moving.  
Blackarachnia moved her head slightly, and got a glimpse of Dinobot. His lips moved, so, presumably, he snarled something in response. Something disturbed him, and he looked to the side with distaste. Then he pointed at the bot in front of Blackarachnia in a universal 'it isn't finished yet' gesture, and backed away.

Only after a moment femme's battered processor registered that the ex-Predacon's front was badly scorched. Another moment, and she realized that the maniac in blue and gray, now looking down at her, must have detonated a grenade almost on top of her.

Her hit-list was getting longer and longer by nano-kliks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The syringe lay on the ground, waiting patiently.  
There was a high possibility that even if it _was_ an antidote, it wouldn't work on the new poison variant, or that it wouldn't work fast enough. But at the current situation, Rhinox decided it was worth a shot. Now, if only he could gather enough energy to maximize and use it...

There was a sound of flapping wings and a small thud behind him. Vultures must have gotten bolder. Rhinox ignored it. He didn't have time to be eaten right now.

"Down," sounded a command, and with a huge sigh of surprised relief, Rhinox obeyed. As of yet, none of them had managed to disobey Kittar in full medic mode.

Airazor watched anxiously as Kittar pressed an outstretched hand to Rhinox neck, simultaneously moving a scanner mounted on her other arm over him.  
"Is he alright?" she asked.

Kittar didn't spare her a glance. "No, he's poisoned."  
She smeared a drop of Rhinox's blood between her fingers, then put it on a small pad on her monitor, and frowned. The formula was a nightmare, but she could figure that it was mostly affecting thee beast mode, causing all nanites in Rhinox's body to rush to the organic parts, in attempt to save them. Since the repairs on a beast mode weren't monitored by the internal computers, neither was the energy drain they caused.

That energy loss was the biggest threat at the moment - and easy to remedy.

Airazor felt a little faint at the sight of the instruments the tiny femme unsubspaced. She could have sworn the needles were a mile long! She turned her head while Kittar attached three emergency feeders to the rhino's side.

Rhinox flicked his ear.  
"Don't move," Kittar huffed at him. "You're low on energy as it is."  
Rhinox's ear stilled, but he apparently decided that repressing the smile would be more tiresome than letting it appear.

Kittar eyed the expression unkindly, but didn't comment. She picked a field syringe instead, sniffed at it, and squeezed out a drop of its contents to analyze it.

By the looks of it, it was an antidote for the cyber-venom the poison in Rhinox's body was based on. Kittar calculated its effects, run few quick simulations, and injected Rhinox with the stuff. It wouldn't do any harm, and might help to stabilize the energy dispersion.

Airazor picked that moment to look back, and averted her gaze again in a hurry, promising to herself to never, ever get herself damaged. She was more than grateful when a sound of running feet distracted her.  
"What did we miss?" Rattrap panted, sliding to a stop beside her. "How's the Big R? He all right?"

"He will be," Kittar said before Airazor had a chance to open her mouth. Rattrap looked at the medic, and then suddenly flattened his ears and became very interested in the landscape.  
"A needle?" Airazor guessed.  
"A big one," he confirmed, studying the horizon. "Oh, look, Chopperface's gaining on us. What took you so long?" The last part was directed at the raptor, who send him a less than pleased look.

He didn't feel so good after receiving a facefull of a grenade blast, but he'd rather rust in a gutter than admit it. "There obviously wasn't an emergency anymore," he snarled haughtily. "Therefore I failed to see a reason for haste." There was a faintest strain in his voice, and Kittar's head snapped toward him.

"Sit down right now. What did you do? I've got enough work with Rhinox!"  
"Charming as usual," Rattrap murmured, not even picking at the fact that Dinobot flopped to the ground as ordered. He'd been in similar situation after all. He made sure there were no needles in sight, and sidled close to Rhinox.  
"Dontcha worry, ol' buddy, I'll keep ya safe from 'er."  
A short chuckle rumbled deep in the rhino's chest, and Kittar hissed at both of them. "Dontcha make 'im waste energy!"

Airazor snorted and quickly covered her mouth. "I'll radio Optimus, shall I?" She offered, resetting her voice box. "Tell him we'll need transportation?"  
Kittar, Rattrap and Dinobot nodded in unison.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the way this day had been going, Blackarachnia wasn't at all surprised to wake up in the CR-tank. And when the first thing her activated optics registered was a pair of blue lights above, she felt she actually should have expected it.  
"What do you want?" she growled.  
"That is no way to greet your knight in shiny armor. But whatever. Just wanted to make sure you remember you owe me a big time."  
The femme sat up, splashing the CR fluid around. "Owe you?!"

"Oh, yes. For saving your sorry hide, and for not reporting this." He showed her a barbed dart. "There's still some of your new poison inside. I show this to Megs, and you're a dead femme."

She grabbed at the dart, but, predictably, he kept it out of her reach. Blackarachnia scowled. "He'll scrap you too, for not reporting this right away," she spat before she thought.  
Rust smirked. "I'll tell him I've only just found it."  
"I'll tell him you lie!"  
He snorted. "And here's your problem right there, widow." He leaned closer. "You are a useless little glitch, who'd already poisoned one of her own, while I'm a statue of blind obedience. Whom do you think he'll believe?"

They stared at each other, her hatred drowning in his mockery.  
"What do you want?" she hissed at last.  
Rust straightened up. "I'll think of something. Don't get in trouble in the meantime."

As he strode out of the room, a fleeting though made Blackarachnia calmer and madder at the same time. The thought was: It could have been worse. He could have been Terrorsaur.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hic. Hic! Hic, hic, HIC!"

"Someone thinking bad things about dactyl-bot," Waspinator buzzed, not for the first time glad to have helmet that hid his mocking grin from the world. Terrorsaur jerking helplessly in the air was a spark-warming sight.

"Hic!" Terrorsaur didn't bother to answer. Stupid superstition. He himself blamed the unruly turmoil in his tanks on the cold energon he'd drank earlier. The sooner they leave that Primus forsaken, frozen place, the better. True, as a flyer he was used to low temperatures - but someone should write a special proclamation - Flyers' Right To Get Warm After Landing.

"Hic!"

And No Stupid Giggling Under Their Breath Teammates.

"Waspinator think Rust was here," the stupid teammate ventured.  
"Yeah? Why?" Terrorsaur looked down, at a few miles long trail of destruction. He snorted. The stupid bug was clearly overestimating the wolf's capabilities. "It was a snow slide, not Rust," he said importantly. "Better watch out for the Maxis."

Waspinator scowled, but did start watching out for Maximals. What he spotted few mega-cycles later was not a Maximal, but something almost as good.  
"A signal tower!" Terrorsaur screeched gleefully. "He's got to come here sooner or later!"  
Now all they had to do was wait.  
As it turned out, not for very long.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Few megas in a CR-chamber can do wonders on a downed bot. Rhinox emerged from one fresh like a three ton daisy. He was greeted by a Rattrap's cheerful face.  
"Guess what, Big Green, we're all under a house arrest!" The delighted voice didn't match the serious words at all.

"Meaning...?" Rhinox asked, making his way out of the MedBay. Trailing by his side and mimicking Optimus as best as he could, Rattrap explained.

"No-one, and I mean _not_ ONE bot, is to set a foot outside this ship today, or touch any machine without a reason, or wander in the unused corridors, or do anything dat might annoy me, and be warned: I'm easily upset today."  
Rattrap gave the green bot a faked sad look. "I asked him if breathin' was OK, and he said - if ya really have to. Den he said it's one of _dese_ days. Whatever _dat_ means."  
"Ah," Rhinox commented, and looked at the figure walking toward them. "One of _these _days?" he asked.

Optimus nodded solemnly. "You've got yourself poisoned, Dinobot blown up, the hover shorted a mile from the base, Airazor flew right into Sentinel's shield because Sentinel had a glitch and reacted with a two-nano delay, and then Cheetor came back with one paw all but torn out. Kittar looked ready to kill," he added after a short pause.

"One of these days," Rhinox nodded his head seriously.

"Yeah, well, whatever." Rattrap waved his hands helplessly at the code-talk. "I'm gonna enjoy my extra free time." He stopped in front of his quarters and punched in a code. "Just gonna grab few things, and--"

Optimus had walked up to them by then, so saw the whole thing happening.  
Rattrap opened his door, and suddenly froze with one foot in the air.  
"Oh, please," he said distastefully. "How dumb does she think I am?" He carefully stepped over a trip-wire, and looked up, at the bucked connected to it.  
"Dat's da lamest trap I saw in my life."  
He carefully detached the wire and reached for the bucket - and the moment he removed it from its place, a small click sounded, and a fire hose hid behind the bucked sprayed him head to foot with a liquid a bit to thick to be just water.

"Fraggit!" Rattrap took a step back and grabbed a cleaning cloth from the nearest rubbish heap. The rapid movement sent into the air a could of fine dust, and since Rattrap inhaled in surprise, he was soon in a coughing fit. Whatever the dust was, it didn't agree with the bot's ventilation systems.

"Dat's still pretty lame," he said sternly after a while, using the cloth to wipe away some of the liquid of his frame.

But, as it turned out later that afternoon, he didn't know the whole of it.

The Maximals were gathered in the control room - not for any particular reason, they just kind of drifted toward it - when all of a sudden the power went down for few cycles.  
The only source of light was six pair of optics... and one bot with artistic splashes of fluorescent paint, smeared all over his frame.

After a nano of surprised silence, the room shook with laughter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* * *

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rust peeked into the comm-room. "Are they back yet?" he asked for the forth time this solar, which made it a round dozen since the day the flyers were expected to be back. Which was three solars ago. Tarantulas, being the unfortunate one stuck on the monitor duty, seriously considered adding canine to his menu.  
"Are you even trying to contact them?" Rust continued, stalking up to the spider-bot.  
"They are out of range," Tarantulas explained for the tenth time. "If you are so unusually concerned, Rust, I suggest you ask Megatron to let you go look for them."  
And maybe the tin can would to something sensible for a change, and let him. The base would be so much quieter...  
"I will," the kid growled, and went to argue his case with the tyrant.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Terrorsaur shook slightly, reaching for the comlink and hoping desperately that they were in range already. At his side, Waspinator whimpered, curling around the ugly hole burnt in his torso. The stumps of fried wings quivered pathetically, in synch with quiet sobs. Terrorsaur preferred not to look at the other bot - it was reminding him of similar injuries that rendered himself weak and flightless.

_Be there, be there, be there_, he thought, trying to contact the base. The uncaring static was only response.

"Nothing," he rasped. "Move it, we've gotta keep going." He forced Waspinator to his feet and dragged him along. He didn't much care for the little wimp, but he didn't cherish the thought of being stuck out here alone. Plus, he had a hunch that if he left Waspinator behind, he might reach the base only to have Rust tear him to pieces. The idiotic henchbot, anyway. Where was he when Terrorsaur would be actually glad to see that stupid racer of his?

:: ...swear to Pri... tear you to piec... ..if you're dead... ...ou dumb flyers, can't eve... ...thout getting lo... ... rorsaur, Was... ...swer me fraggi... ...are you? just wait till I... ::

Terrorsaur stopped dead. This must have been the most beautiful voice he heard in his life.  
"0-2-5/9-6-6! Get us out of here!" he screeched.

&&&&

In the Predacon's base comm-room, Rust jumped to his feet.

"Sir, I've found them!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was only thanks to his fast reflexes, that Cheetor hadn't been run over when something going two hundred miles per hour zoomed across his path.  
"Skipping surges! What was that?"  
He squinted at the diminishing spot, and radioed Optimus.  
"Hey, BigBot, I think I've just saw Rust. He was heading northwest in an awful hurry."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And here he comes back in an awful hurry," Airazor reported a solar-cycle later. She took off, leaving a branch she'd been perched on for past few megas. "He's got passengers." She circled above the double floater, readjusting zoom for a better look.  
"It's Waspinator and Terrorsaur," she exclaimed in surprise. "They look like they've tried to take on a volcano!"

&&&&

Even as he smiled slightly at the description, Optimus felt a touch of anxiety. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was wrong in the situation.  
"Airazor, what is his position and vector?" he asked, not really sure why. After a moment the flyer gave him a string of numbers, and Optimus shut his optics, fitting them in the map of the continent. Then his neck went cold.  
He jerked his head to look at Rhinox, who just did the same.

"The mountains," Optimus said.  
"Tigatron was supposed to make contact this morning," Rhinox answered.  
Optimus gritted his teeth. "Well that's just prime."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It couldn't have been Tigatron," Optimus said, for the umpth time watching the short visual Airazor provided. "Not his style, not his fire power."

"They've come vaguely from the direction I saw Rust taking this machinery to. Maybe they were tinkering with it and blew it up?" Airazor offered. "It doesn't have to have anything to do with Tigatron." She only new the bot as a worm voice coming form the radio every week, but she wouldn't like to think he'd been harmed.

Optimus's spark unfroze a little. "That's possible. Any contact yet, Rhinox?"  
The technician shook his head, tapping few more keys on the radio. "Not a peep. But I'm getting the test signal, so the tower is still there." Which could mean anything.  
The unfreezing process stopped.

"What do you think, Kittar?"  
"Hmm?" Kittar was sitting on the edge of the holo-table, with her nose almost in the middle of the image.  
"What do you think of these damages?"  
Kittar sniffed thoughtfully. "At least five solars old, not tended to, both are grounded, Waspinator will be lucky to make it." She sniffed again. "Are they using CR chambers or tanks?" She asked.

"Tanks," Rattrap answered automatically, before he remembered he wasn't speaking to her. He'd almost fallen in one of the Preds' CRs when a ventilation shaft gave in under his weight during one of his 'visits'.  
Rubbing her nose thoughtfully, Kittar watched the visual again. "Then he'll make it, but will be out for a weak."

Optimus sighed. He should have known to formulate the question more precisely. "Yes, but what caused the damages? An explosion?"  
A snort. "No. High-energy weapon. Waspinator was hit four times, Terrorsaur five or six."

And here goes the freezing again.

Optimus straightened up. Going through the maybies wouldn't help the situation. What they needed was action. "Airazor, Rattrap - keep a close look on the Predacons' base, I want to know about every single movement. Rhinox, give me that laser-link. I'm going to check on Tigatron."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moment Optimus voice filtered through, Rhinox knew the things didn't look good. Optimus never sounded that indifferent unless something really bad happened.  
:: I've reached the signal tower. It's unscathed. But few hundred meters from it there's a battlefield. ::

&&&&

Optimus looked at the shining patches where melted snow had re-frozen, and the single set of tracks that spoke volumes of running, dodging and tripping. It ended at the edge of a cliff. That was where he found a small pool of energon and a lump of frozen mech-fluids.  
"It doesn't look good," he said, and then added something he very much didn't like saying. "He might have been destroyed."

Then he rubbed his forehead tiredly. "But what about flyers' injuries?" He wondered, half to himself.

:: A third party?:: Rhinox offered quietly. :: You know we're not alone on this planet. ::

"Maybe. But I'm not sure I like that option." Optimus carefully glanced down the cliff. "I'm going down to look for him," he said. "We'll lose connection for a while."  
:: Understood. And, Optimus... Good luck. ::

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The luck didn't serve. Optimus came back two solars later, alone.  
"Nothing," he said in answer to inquisitive looks. "Not a scrap of armor, not a trace of energy signature. He vanished into the thin air."

The room instantly buzzed with worry, concern and speculations, and Optimus winced. It came as an extreme relief when a pair of amber optics looked him up and down, and a very stern voice commanded him to go recharge right _now_.

He grabbed at the excuse to leave for his quarters. He wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep, but there was something he needed to do. An every day duty, made hard by the circumstances.

Once in his quarters, Optimus pulled out his personal computer, and opened a specific file.  
Captain's log.

He typed in few sentences, summarizing the recent events.  
Then he skipped to the crew-status sheet.

Unit: Tigatron.

Status: ...  
...  
...  
Missing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* * *

End of part eleven 


End file.
